


Ben Junior Meg's Rescue

by RCs Many Posts (Parker4131970)



Category: due South
Genre: F/M, post CotW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-27 16:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 51,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6292486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parker4131970/pseuds/RCs%20Many%20Posts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benton and Maggie are re-assigned and given a mission to stop an assassin from Meg's past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Chapter 1 Temporary Assignment  
Chicago- The Present …  
"Ben, pick up your room before we go to the hockey rink this afternoon, please." Benton popped his head into his son's room as the boy tried to tame the cow lick near his crown. He stopped to look at the frown on his son's face as he failed to do anything with the swirl of dark hair.  
"Okay, Dad, what time are we leaving?" Ben set his comb back on his dresser and turned off the overhead light as he left the room.  
"Four o'clock, right after you get home from school." A bright smile split the teen's face. He loved spending the afternoon with his dad, just the two of them, trading slap shots on the ice.  
"Have you finished your homework for English class?" The frown on the boy's face told the Mountie the answer.  
"I've only got one, last question to answer, I can do that in the cafeteria before class." Ben gave his father his most logical answer. Benton gave the boy the leeway he sought. Ben had improved his grades, making the A/B honor roll after the second semester in Chicago. It was an achievement for a boy who'd grown up bouncing around Alaska with his mother, on the run from the authorities.  
"Alright, see that you do." Benton handed his son the lunch he'd made for him. Diefenbaker barked from his position on the kitchen floor.  
"I haven't forgotten your afternoon snack." Benton waved a spatula at the old wolf. Dief nodded and laid his head back down on his paws.  
"Dad, it's time to go." Ben said, hefting his back pack up on his shoulder. After a year together, there was still a lot the father and son had to adjust to. Benton had to think of every decision as it would affect the both of them. Maggie was only a phone call away when he needed someone for a sounding board. She and Ray Kowalski were enjoying their first year of marriage snugly settled in Maggie's post in the North West Territories.  
"I'll be along in a moment." Benton slid his sandwich into a Rubber Maid container and collected his Stetson from a hook by the front door. He followed Ben out, Dief following him. It was a short, amiable walk for the three. At the entrance to the school, Benton clapped a hand on his son's shoulder and turned him around. He looked steadily into the boy's blue eyes before speaking.  
"Have a good day, Ben, remember, if you need anything you can reach me at the consulate." The boy gave him an impatient shrug. They went through this every morning. Still, Ben thought it was nice to have someone who cared so much.  
"Dad, you practically tattooed your cell number on my hand. I'll be alright." He saw the smile pulling on Benton's face.  
"I just found you, Ben, I only want you to be safe." The Mountie spoke low, so as not to be overheard.  
"You're the one who chases purse snatchers instead of eating lunch, Dad." Ben reminded him. It was the Mountie's turn to shrug.  
"I'll be here when school is out." Benton adjusted his Stetson and waved good-bye to his son. Some days the boy reminded him so much of Victoria. People who knew them both saw the strong resemblance to Benton in the boy.  
Benton walked away from the school whistling a tune.  
"Good morning, Sir." Turnbull greeted Fraser at the door.  
"Constable Turnbull, hello." Both Mounties greeted each other as they'd done for the last fourteen years. Dief bound on ahead, toward Fraser's office, down the hallway and to the right.  
"Constable Fraser," The Mountie turned at the sound of his name. The Chief Liaison Officer, Charles Winston Iverson's voice thundered through the halls. A stout, trust worthy fellow, Iverson worked the consulate with as little fan fare as possible. Both of his subordinate officers had been assigned to Chicago far longer than he had. A career RCMP officer, Iverson had great respect for Benton's father, Robert Fraser and for Buck Frobisher. He'd read Benton's extensive file and could only shake his head.  
"Yes, Sir." Benton back tracked to enter Iverson's office, his Stetson in hand.  
"I received a message this morning. It seems you have been requested for temporary duty by an Inspector in the North West Territories. It's the blastedest thing, the order is classified, there's no name associated with it." Iverson beckoned Benton around the desk to examine the paperwork for himself. Looking closely, everything seemed to be in order, official in every way.  
"Have you called Ottawa for clarification, Sir?" Benton asked, racking his brain for an answer.  
"I got off the phone with them a few minutes before you arrived at the Consulate. They reinforced the order but wouldn't give me any details, just that you were being sent to a place called Spencer Falls and that a replacement officer would be sent to relieve you." Iverson shrugged, his considerable girth pulling at the buttons of his business suit.  
"When do I leave, Sir?" Fraser smoothed his eyebrow with his thumbnail, calculating the time Ben still had left before school was released for the year. It was the last two weeks before summer break, thankfully. Ben would be excited to stay with Maggie for a while.  
"In three days it says. It's still the blastedest thing, wonder what this all about?" Iverson leaned back in his office chair, the burdened seat threatening to tip over backwards with him.  
"This is a puzzle, Sir. I'll inform Turnbull and make the travel arrangements." Benton's mind went into overdrive. He had to make travel arrangements for himself, Ben and Diefenbaker. It was a logistical nightmare. He also had to contact Maggie and see if it was convenient for her to take Ben for a while.  
"Let me know if you need anything, Constable Fraser, I'd appreciate it if you kept me in the loop on this." Iverson sat up, a keen glint in his rheumy, blue eyes. Benton nodded, glad the old officer hadn't ordered him. They had a good working relationship, more of a partnership. Iverson was at the end of his career and Benton was somewhere past the middle of his. The old man trusted Fraser to do his job without being micromanaged. Besides, it took too much effort to keep up with the younger man.  
"Thank you, Sir, I'll keep you informed." Fraser didn't wait to be dismissed, and Iverson never thought to dismiss him.  
"Hello, Constable Fraser speaking, may I speak to Maggie Kowalski please?" Ben heard himself say as he made his way through his to-do list. The name sounded so odd rolling off his tongue.  
"Thank you kindly." The Mountie waited for a moment as the freshly minted officer switched him to Maggie's extension.  
"Hey, Benton, how are you, how is my nephew?" The lady Mountie sounded glad to hear from her older brother. He could hear it in her voice.  
"We're doing fine. I called to ask a favor actually." Maggie could hear the hesitation in Benton's voice and knew why. Neither of them liked asking for help, even between siblings.  
"Anything, Benton, I don't mind." She listened carefully, sipping her coffee, sitting behind her desk.  
"I've been given a temporary assignment to a place called 'Spencer Falls'. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind taking Ben for me until this is cleared up?" The atmosphere over the phone line changed.  
"Did you say 'Spencer Falls' ?" A pin dropping would have made a racket.  
"Yes. Iverson couldn't get a definitive answer from Ottawa. Why, have you heard something?" Ben toyed with his slightly imperfect eye tooth as he waited for Maggie's answer.  
"Yes, I've been called for temporary duty there as well. Do you know who's calling us all together, Benton?" Alarm bells went off in both Mounties' brains.  
"I'm not certain, Maggie, do you have any contacts that might have that information?" Ben stared a hole through the filing cabinet opposite his desk. Diefenbaker sensed the change in his human's behavior and sat watching Fraser intently.  
"I'll have to make a few calls, Benton, give me some time. I can't help but wonder if we're walking into a trap." The worry in Maggie's voice was uncharacteristic of her. She was a rough, tough, female Mountie, little if anything worried her.  
"I pray we aren't. I'll see what I can find out and call you this evening. Tell Ray hello for me." Both of Bob Fraser's children said good-bye after a moment of catching up. Ben hung up the phone with more apprehension than when he'd dialed it.  
***  
Author's Note: I have no earthly clue how Illinois runs it's school system as I've never taught there. I have, however, taught elsewhere and that experience is what I'm basing this on.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Chapter 2 We're Off  
After School …  
Students filed out of the old, brick building a lot faster than they walked into it. Ben saw his dad, red serge uniform and all, standing outside the principal's office after he grabbed his back pack.  
"Hey, Dad, what's going on?" Concern filled the boy's blue eyes. His dad would only be there if it was important.  
Benton turned around at the sound of his son's voice. It still surprised him to hear anyone calling him 'Dad'. A smile spread over the Mountie's face.  
"I was just talking to Mr. Branch about your assignments for the rest of the year." Even greater concern clouded the boy's eyes. "I've been temporarily reassigned to the North West Territories, you'll be staying with Ray for a few weeks."  
"You've taken your semester exams, I'll speak to your teachers about the remainder of your assignments." Mr. Branch, a lively man with quick eyes and a salt and pepper goatee grinned like a possum. No one would expect he could preach a fire and brimstone sermon on Sunday mornings like any good, Virginia Pentecostal preacher.  
"Thank you kindly, Mr. Branch, I'll be sure to take lots of pictures to show everyone next year." Ben put his hand out and shook his principal's hand. Pride swelled in Benton's chest. Gone was the angry, bitter boy he'd first met.  
"Have a good summer, Ben, I'll see you tomorrow." Mr. Branch escorted the pair out, into the stream of homeward bound students.  
"What is it you didn't tell Mr. Branch, Dad?" Ben asked when they hit the sidewalk beyond the school.  
"Hmm?" Benton asked, his Stetson in his hands.  
"Come on, Dad, what is it?" Ben pressed the subject, seeing through his father's stalling tactic.  
"Aunt Maggie, and myself have been called to Spencer Falls, the orders are classified." Benton answered the boy's question with as little of the worry he felt as possible.  
"You don't know who's sent for you?" Ben asked, looking up at his father, but not by much.  
"No, not yet." Benton tugged on his ear as they strolled.  
"Are we still going to the rink this afternoon?" The boy looked up at him hopefully.  
"Yes, just as soon as you pick up your room." Ben rolled his eyes. His father was as persistent and tenacious as any terrier.  
"Okay, I'll pick it up." Ben chuckled, grinning.  
Chicago Ice Rink …  
"Sorry to say it, Constable Fraser, but I have to close the rink." Mr. Crook, the rink owner waddled out onto the ice, his hands shoved in his pockets.  
"We should have been gone hours ago." Benton pulled his helmet off and skated toward the laid back man.  
"Nah, no worries, it's good to see a father and son spending quality time together." Mr. Crook shrugged. He'd been watching Fraser and Ben come into the rink every week for the last year, since the boy had been kidnapped out of the rink bathroom.  
"My Janice told me to invite the two of you to dinner this evening, we're having meatloaf and all the trimmings." Mr. Crook had his best salesman's smile on his round face.  
"Thank you kindly, Mr. Crook." Benton nodded as he waved Ben over to them.  
"Here's one, last shot, Dad." The boy brought the puck to him, mastering his footing well. Ben stopped short of his father and Mr. Crook with two feet to spare.  
"You've improved, Ben." Mr. Crook commented. He had a fondness for the boy.  
"Thank you, Mr. Crook." The Mountie nodded.  
"It's no trouble, Constable, we're glad to have company for dinner." Mr. Crook shrugged, a bit embarrassed.  
"Did Mrs. Crook fix a peach cobbler like she did last time?" The boy's eyes sparkled as he thought about the last time he and his father had eaten dinner with the Crook family.  
"I'm not sure what Janice fixed for dessert."  
"Everything she fixes is good." Ben could almost taste the thick, sweet syrup and crisp, tangy peaches he'd eaten with vanilla ice cream.  
"Be sure to tell her that, she fusses that nothing tastes right." Mr. Crook gave the boy a hearty slap on the back.  
Fraser's apartment …  
Diefenbaker enjoyed the wolf sized doggy bag Mrs. Crook sent home for him as Ben sat down at the kitchen table and spread his homework out around him, a single light on overhead. There wasn't much, but he had to finish it before he was allowed to watch television. As Ben worked Mrs. Terlizzi's “Hamlet” cross word puzzle he listened to his father talking to Maggie.  
"Hello, Benton. I'm afraid you'll have to bring Ben with you, Ray has to be out of town for work." Maggie sounded sad. She hated it when Ray had to leave to take care of business with the company. He'd found a management position for a private security firm. He trained new hires and handled special clients, both of which got him out of the office and into the field. Ray was still home for dinner at least three times a week and through the day the other four.  
Benton wondered how he was going to handle this assignment and provide adequate supervision for Ben. He may have been fourteen but he was still Ben's only son and he wanted him to be safe above all else. He shoved the problem out of his mind for the time being.  
"You haven't heard anything else about our orders?" Benton sat back in his arm chair, his cell phone pressed against his ear.  
"No, no one knows where they originated." Fraser heard the loud crack of his sister slapping Ray's hand and a whispered, "Not now, I'm on the phone with Benton." before she giggled.  
"Hey, Bennie, how's things?" The former detective's voice in the back ground made Benton smile. He was glad that his best friend and his sister had finally, after more than a decade, decided to get married.  
"Hello, Ray, fine, thank you." Fraser answered.  
"Sorry about that, Benton, you know how annoying he can be." Maggie apologized. He could hear the affection in her voice.  
"No one is talking about this temporary assignment." The lady Mountie came back to the purpose of the call.  
"I thought our superiors in Ottawa would be more forth coming with you." The old frustration of being black listed because of Gerard flared. It had been the better part of twenty years since he'd turned in his father's partner for murder.  
"I'm sorry, Benton. I'm just as wary of this as you are."  
"Thank you for trying regardless, Maggie." Ben sighed, he felt too old for this kind of cloak and dagger business.  
"May I speak to Aunt Maggie?" Ben asked, standing in the door way of the living room.  
"Here's Ben, Dief says to give Aurora his regards." Fraser handed the cell phone to his son.  
"Hey, Aunt Maggie ….” Ben stood up from his chair, the sound of the conversation trailing off. He wandered into his bedroom. It wasn't large, it didn't have to be. He had a twin size bed in the center of the wall to the right, a night stand with a reading lamp to the left, a dresser beside the door and an old, military foot locker in the corner. In the closet to the left was Benton's red serge uniform, hat press, and spare Stetson. Ben had laughed out loud when he saw that his dad had an ironing board and iron tucked away in his closet. The only time he'd ever seen Victoria use an iron was when she put an iron-on patch over the holes in his jeans.  
"Let's see, where did I put that pack?" Benton said to himself as he knelt down and opened the foot locker. The metal frame of the wooden chest was cold to the touch. It had been battered, beaten and had been dragged half way around the world during World War II. Carefully, the Mountie set the lid off to the side and began looking for the old, canvas pack he preferred. A shaft of light through the window of the third floor apartment struck a green, leather bound photo album. On impulse, the Mountie pulled the dusty tome out and began flipping through it. Mostly it was photos of his early days at the Chicago Consulate. One of him on sentry duty came first, then one of Ray Vecchio posed with him as he was on sentry duty, another sentry duty shot with Diefenbaker at his side, four more of Fraser on sentry duty, (those were the days when Inspector Thatcher had been out to get him), one of Turnbull on sentry duty, and somewhere near the back was one that caught the Mountie off guard completely. Meg stood in the consulate ballroom wearing a black, velvet evening gown with a sweet heart neck line, her hair in a long, sleek bob. She wasn't smiling, but there was a cool, mysterious air about her as she stood with one hand on her hip and the other toying with the cameo necklace she wore at her throat. It had been a lifetime ago that Benton had looked into those dark, alluring brown eyes. It felt like someone else's life he'd been living when they'd shared a forbidden moment on top of that runaway train. He'd been another man that day as they'd been bound, his arms wrapped around her curves, and her arms around his waist. The smell of fresh hay always brought back the memory of bobby pins and black lace.  
"Who's that, Dad?" Ben's voice pulled Fraser back from across the miles and memories. Turning, he saw Ben standing at the foot of his bed.  
"Someone I worked with years ago." Benton smiled wistfully.  
"She's pretty." Ben sat down beside his dad on the bed and took the album from him. "What's her name?" The boy examined her face carefully, wondering at the Mona Lisa smile captured by the camera's shutter.  
"Meg, I mean Inspector Margaret Thatcher." Fraser grimaced, knowing the boy had caught his gaff.  
"Meg, eh? So, did you two have something together?" Ben flipped through the album, watching his father's reaction from the corner of his eye. The red glow creeping up his neck answered better than Fraser ever could have.  
"She was my superior officer at the consulate, I respected and admired her greatly." Benton tried to shrug it off, to act like seeing her face, even in a photograph, didn't take his breath away.  
"So, it was complicated, as they say." Ben handed him back the album. Quickly, Fraser put it back in the foot locker and replaced the lid.  
"You have no idea." The Mountie answered without looking up.  
"I don't have any half brothers or sisters out there somewhere do I?" Ben teased his dad, elbowing him.  
"No, not that I'm aware of." Fraser answered, rising from his seat on the bed to look in the bottom of his closet for the pack.  
"Good, because I don't want you coming back as a ghost like Grandpa Bob to explain things." The boy continued, only half teasing.  
"Never fear, I intend to stay in the hereafter. I promise I won't bother a living soul." Fraser went along with the joke.  
"Good, I mean I liked Grandpa Bob's visits, but they always came at the worst times." Ben laid back on the bed, his head dangling off the opposites side. That statement started the ball rolling on Fraser's story telling. It didn't happen very often but Ben found that his dad could tell some interesting and very funny stories about his experiences.  
Three Days Later …  
"Hurry up, our flight leaves at nine o'clock." Benton tried to quicken his son's pace as he brushed his teeth before leaving for O' Hare Airport.  
"Dad, it's six o'clock in the morning, I've been packed for a day and a half, relax." Ben mumbled through his toothbrush and foaming paste.  
"We still have to deal with Diefenbaker." Fraser reminded his son. The boy just shook his head and finished brushing his teeth.  
"I'm ready." The boy blinked a few times before yawning.  
"Then we are off." Fraser said enthusiastically. Ben sighed and grabbed his large duffel bag. Fraser shouldered his pack and adjusted his Stetson. Diefenbaker trotted out the door first, his tail a white flag as he circled around to wait for his humans to join him. There was adventure in the air and his keen nose could smell it. What he didn't realize was that he'd been stuck in a cage for a few days and miss the start of it all.   
***


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Chapter 3 Spencer Falls  
Spencer Falls …  
Meg stood at the window looking at the rolling, treeless expanse behind the office she'd been manning for the last eight years. It was blue skies and green grass for as far as she could see. Every great once in a while she saw a bird wheeling over head or a rabbit scurrying from one grass clump to the next.  
"They'll be here within the hour." She kept telling herself. A cold chill ran up her spine, despite the spring thaw taking place outside. The last attempt on her life had nearly been successful, leaving her with a deep gash in her shoulder, bruises and small cuts across her face from flying glass. Someone had cut the brake lines on her car, sending her toward a swollen ravine. The only thing that had saved her was a boulder about the size of her desk half way down the steep embankment.  
Before that there had been the poison in her salad dressing. Her poor cat, Perkins, had suffered a painful death after sneaking into her kitchen and eating a chicken strip out of her salad. Two months before Perkins' death Meg had been the victim of a hit-and-run. The driver sent her spinning on a wet road, disappearing into the night.  
A tap at the door startled Meg as she stared into the distance. Officer Wilder stepped into the office. The young officer tried unsuccessfully to hide a smirk.  
"Inspector, Constable Maggie Kowalski has arrived, she's in the front office." Wilder noted the way his superior officer controlled her breathing.  
"Send her in, thank you." Meg adjusted her blouse, trying to pull herself together. She hadn't gotten much sleep since the attempts on her life had begun.  
Maggie strode in to the office, still wondering if she was walking into a trap. Aurora, Diefenbaker's daughter, trotted along behind. She was relieved, though understandably puzzled, to see Inspector Thatcher behind the desk.  
"Hello, Inspector Thatcher, I'm ….”   
"Surprised to see me, I suppose." Meg finished before the other lady Mountie could.  
"Honestly, yes." The petite, blonde officer nodded, her blue eyes the same shade as chicory flowers. "The reassignment orders were vague." Maggie put it mildly. Aurora edged toward the stranger. She could tell there was something different about her.  
"I pulled so many strings to get the two of you here, I felt like I was playing a harp." Meg tried to make a joke to lighten the mood. Maggie blinked. Sitting on her haunches, Aurora groaned.  
"I called you, as well as Constable Fraser, here to investigate attempts on an Inspector's life." Meg winced at the sentence.  
"Who's life, Ma'am?" Maggie stepped forward, her keen eyes taking in the distraught officer before her. Aurora watched the women as they spoke. She could hear the change in the stranger's tone.  
"My life, Constable Kowalski." The Inspector answered, her voice tight. Maggie's eyebrows shot up.  
"I'd rather not go into detail just now, but there have been three, separate attempts on my life." Meg whispered in a conspiratorial tone of voice.  
Maggie didn't see how that had anything in the least to do with her but kept her question under her Stetson.  
"So, when is Benton arriving?" Maggie switched the subject, trying to keep the Inspector calm. The young, she-wolf nudged her owners hand. Maggie looked down at her briefly, scratching between her ears. A tap at the door brought both Mounties back to the present.  
"Sir, the second supply plane has arrived." Maggie saw the way Thatcher's face lit up. From that glow it could only be one person coming-Benton Fraser.  
"Radio the air field and tell them I'll be along in a few minutes to pick them up." Meg said. When the junior officer had left the room she took a deep breath and turned back to Maggie. "You can stow your things here in my office until later, would you care to accompany me to the air strip?"  
"Yes, Ma'am, thank you kindly." Maggie still wondered at why the hell she had been called half way across the territories but she went along for the ride.  
***  
"Ben, why didn't you tell me you get motion sick?" Benton tried to remain calm as he walked over to a patch of dirty snow and tried to remove as much of the boy's lunch from his shoes as possible.  
"I'm sorry, Dad, I haven't ridden in an air plane in a while." Ben looked pale and embarrassed. Fraser sighed and knocked his boots off.  
"Sir, the post radioed, someone will be out to collect you in a few minutes." A young Mountie walked up to the veteran officer. Benton nodded, glad to back on land. Ben still looked faintly green around the gills.  
"Thank you kindly." Fraser picked his pack up from the floor of the bush plane and hauled out Ben's duffel bag as well. A chilled breeze from the mountains north of the post filled the consulate Mountie's lungs. Benton smiled at the smell of fresh air. It had been too long since he'd smelled something other than car exhaust and fishy, lake air.  
"Would you like a cup of coffee, Sir?" The young Mountie asked, leading them toward the hangar office to wait on their ride.  
"Yes, thank you." Fraser hefted his pack on his shoulder and followed. "I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."  
"Officer Hansen, Sir." The younger Mountie answered, turning slightly to look at the living legend following him. "If I may, Sir, I've heard of some of your exploits." Benton had seen the hero-worship smile on a few other, young officers over the course of his career. At first it had been because he was Robert Fraser's son, then it had been because of his merits.  
"Oh?" Fraser sighed silently, placating the young man's curiosity.  
"Look, coming up the road." Ben pointed at a reflection in the hangar's window of a silver, Jeep Liberty cruising slowly toward them.  
"Dad, I believe it's Inspector Thatcher driving, and I believe Aunt Maggie is in the passenger seat."   
Benton squinted, wondering if his eyes were betraying him.  
"Maggie MacKenzie is your sister, Sir?" Hansen asked in awe.  
"Yes." Benton answered without his usual elaboration. He watched the Jeep park and the two women get out. Maggie out distanced Thatcher easily. It had been too long since he'd seen Meg Thatcher. Her dark hair was short, cut in a loose style just at the top of her shoulders. Ben's heart stopped in his chest when she walked close enough to see her expression clearly. He saw the professional mask he'd grown accustomed to in Chicago, but there was fear deep in her warm, brown eyes. He noted the cuts and bruises on her face.  
"Inspector Thatcher, hello." Fraser shook her hand, trying to remind himself to breathe normally. He scoped out her left hand-unadorned-good.  
"Constable Fraser, good to see you." She gave him a tight smile, her hand lost in his grip.  
"You were the source of the temporary reassignment orders?"   
Meg nodded at his question.  
"Let me introduce my son, Ben Fraser. Ben, this is Inspector Margaret Thatcher." The boy politely shook hands and smiled, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he looked from the petite woman to his dad.  
"Pleased to meet you, Inspector." Benton laid a heavy hand on his son's shoulder to remind him to be on his best behavior. "Dad told me you worked together at the consulate." The boy left it vague. Meg raised an eyebrow and looked at Fraser. She was surprised at how much Ben reminded her of his father.  
"Yes, I was his superior officer for what, two years?" Meg smiled, looking at Fraser. He seemed a little nervous.  
"Yes, Inspector, I believe so." Fraser adjusted his Stetson.  
"I bet it was a long two years, he tends to get into trouble." Ben couldn't help himself, he saw his father squirming and had to turn the screw. Meg laughed when she saw Fraser nudge his son, a stern glare on his still handsome features. Ben looked up at him, an innocent smile on his face.  
"The Constable kept busy, yes, time passed quickly actually." Meg winced as the bruise on her cheek reminded her of it's presence.  
"Have you eaten lunch, Ben?" Maggie asked, checking her watch. Ben looked at his father and frowned. Aurora had made herself a pest, sniffing both Ben and Fraser, finding Diefenbaker's scent all over both of them. She also smelled something else, but didn't care to imagine what it could be, it was nothing pleasant she was certain.  
"Sort of." He shrugged. Maggie shot her brother a puzzled glance. With the sharp snap of fingers, the lady Mountie called Aurora to her side. The young wolf shuffled back to her place.  
"Motion sickness." Fraser answered. Maggie understood perfectly.  
"I have some saltine crackers back at the post, you're welcome to them, Ben." Thatcher offered.  
"Thank you kindly, Inspector." Ben and Fraser spoke in unison. Everyone laughed as they walked to the Jeep.   
***


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Chapter 4 Another Letter  
Outside Spencer Falls …  
Meg had tried to make reservations with the one and only hotel in town. During tourist season it was nearly impossible to book even a single room. Instead, she had called in a favor from a seasonal hunter who owned a cabin a few kilometers outside Spencer Falls. It had two bedrooms, an indoor bathroom as well as a large main room that flowed into a small kitchen and dining room.  
"I hoped we could talk for a bit, away from the post. I wanted to explain the reason I've called you here." Meg said as she unlocked the padlock on a chain securing the front and only door. Four, small, square windows lined either side of the central door. Maggie nodded toward Benton, one thought running between them.  
Meg opened the door and turned to the left. She pushed back the heavy curtains across the windows to let in natural light before she headed back to the electrical box in the kitchen. Passing the kitchen table, she laid her purse down. The Mounties set their packs near the door beside Ben's duffel bag.  
"As you know, I was part of the Canadian Security Intelligence Agency after I transferred out of the Chicago Consulate. It was a short stint." Meg began as she turned on the cabin's electricity. "Still, I managed to make enemies. Over the last three months I've had three attempts on my life. The last one was nearly successful." The three guests had gathered around the kitchen table to listen to her story. With a sigh she turned to look at her audience.  
"I believe one of the terrorists I helped to capture has decided to kill me, I don't know how or whom, unfortunately. My superiors in Ottawa aren't listening, they say if one of the terrorists had wanted me dead they wouldn't have waited this long to do it. That's why I arranged for your reassignments." The room was quiet for a long moment, Meg's story sinking in.  
"There's more, isn't there?" Ben spoke up first, his eyes bright. Meg smiled, looking at Fraser. Oh, how much he was his father's son.  
"Yes, I've started receiving these." Meg opened her purse and pulled out a gallon Ziploc bag with three envelopes inside. Carefully, she took out the envelopes and handed them to Fraser. His keen eyes noted the lack of a postmark and the use of the metal clasp to keep it closed. He pulled out a single sheet of printer paper and read the bold text; I Will Kill You!  
"I had a friend at the forensics lab in Washington, DC run tests on them. He said that the materials were the cheapest possible, therefore nearly untraceable. There are no fingerprints and no signs of DNA anywhere on the letters and the envelopes." Meg sat back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest, rubbing her arms as if trying to ward off a chill.  
"How can we help?" Fraser asked, his brows knit as he read the other two letters. He glanced up to see the Inspector straighten herself up again.  
"I would like the two of you to investigate these attempts. My officers think this is part of a RCMP officer swap program. Two of my senior officers were sent to relieve you. I trust them not to be the infiltrator." Meg filled them in, her husky voice low. Benton saw a flicker of fear in her eyes. He hated to think that she'd been in any danger, but he knew that they'd both made decisions that couldn't be reversed. After a year's leave of absence, he'd gone back to the Chicago Consulate and settled back into his old routine. The previous year Ben had come to him. Benton had gone through the motions of his life. Meg had never been very far from his thoughts, even after so long.  
"Surely there were other officers you could have trusted?" Maggie asked, her pale blue eyes searching the other woman's face for answers.  
"I know this is an imposition, Constable Kowalski, believe me, I thought long and hard before taking this course of action. I fear that if these attempts persist I may not be the only casualty. I've been forced off the road, my food poisoned and the brakes on my car cut." Meg tried to make Maggie see things from her perspective. The blonde Mountie relaxed. She knew how Benton felt about Thatcher.  
"Do you have any suspects in mind?" Benton spoke after deliberating a moment.  
"Yes, a few. I've pulled every string I ever had, called in favors and blackmailed for this information." The Inspector pulled out a file folder from her purse. She wasn't proud of the methods she'd had to employ, but she had to stop this assassin before they killed her or anyone else.  
"I was wondering, what are you going to do with me?" Ben asked out of the blue. Maggie gave Benton a harsh expression.  
"I may have the solution." Meg smiled slyly. "George Daniels runs a summer camp at Lake Cumberbatch, the first session started day before yesterday. There's always room for one more."  
"I could live with that." Ben shrugged. It would be good to be around other kids without the pressure of school work and teachers.  
"Would you mind terribly calling Mr. Daniels, Inspector?" Fraser asked. He hated to impose on her friends but there was little else to be done about Ben. Once upon a time he would have asked Ray Vecchio or Francesca to look after the boy. Frannie had four children of her own and Ray was in Florida. Ray and the retired Lieutenant Welsh kept in contact with each other and with their friends in Chicago through Francesca and email.  
"I'd be glad to help. It's my mess you're here to clean up." Meg said shyly. She'd tried to ferret out the culprit but the last attempt on her life had rattled her badly. "I'll call him this afternoon. Tomorrow morning I'll drive the two of you out to Lake Cumberbatch and let you see the camp." Thatcher suggested to Fraser.   
Ben sat back and watched the way his father and the Inspector acted around each other. He'd been right when he caught Fraser's gaff a few days earlier. Ben had seen women too young to be his mother on into their sixties flirt with the Mountie. They never got this much attention out of him.  
"We should be getting to he post soon." Maggie brought them back to the present.  
***  
The Spencer Falls post wasn't as large as Benton had figured the Inspector's posting would be. He always thought she'd end up at the head of a large department with a big staff. Instead she manned one only a bit bigger than the Chicago Consulate. Including Thatcher, there were ten officers total. The post was a sturdy, cement block structure. Behind it was a gravel lot and a low slung, metal garage.  
"Hello, Inspector Thatcher." Constable Wilder greeted her as she lead Fraser, Maggie and Ben into the main room. The Constable stood up ramrod straight at his desk when she entered. His eyes widened when he saw the pair in their red, dress serge. The boy tagging behind them seemed out of place.  
"Wilder, good day, these are Constables Benton Fraser and Maggie Kowalski. They'll be here for the next two weeks." It was handshakes and hellos all around for the next few moments.  
"This is my son, Ben Fraser." The Mountie introduced his son to the younger officer. Wilder and Ben shook hands, the boy gauging the man's metal by how he shook hands. Meg saw the pride welling up in Fraser as he watched his son. She was glad that he had family again. It had been a long time coming for him.  
"I'll be spending the next two weeks at camp." Ben reassured the Mountie when he looked at the boy skeptically. Wilder nodded, glad that he wouldn't have to be a babysitter.  
"Have there been any calls for me, Constable Wilder?" Meg asked, checking her mail cubby-  
hole on the back wall of the main room.  
"No, Ma'am." There were a few fliers, one or two newsletters and a sizable, manila envelope in the cubby. Meg pulled them out and began sorting them, tossing the unimportant fliers and newsletters in the trash can beside the desk. Fraser saw her turn as pale as a glacier when she saw the envelope. She turned and walked back toward her office in the back of the building.  
"So, how long have you been with the Spencer Falls Post, Constable Wilder?" Ben smiled, trying to give his dad and his aunt the opening they needed to follow Meg. Fraser squeezed the boy's shoulder briefly before heading down the hallway behind the Inspector. Maggie was only a step behind him. They found Meg standing halfway across the gravel lot. She'd taken the package out the back door, toward the garage.  
"I didn't want Wilder to see us opening this." Meg swallowed hard and handed Fraser the envelope. The Mountie examined it carefully, smelling of it, his eyes closed. Then he held it up to the light. Finding nothing interesting, he pulled out his pocket knife, swung the four inch blade out easily and slit the top of the envelope. He knelt down on the gravel and let the contents slide out onto the ground. It was a single sheet of printer paper and a strand of hair that matched hers.  
"The letter says; 'Call Whoever You Want, I Will Still Kill You'." Ben handed the letter to Maggie for her inspection.  
"They've been in my house." The thought made Meg sick to her stomach. Someone had invaded her privacy.  
"The strand of hair may not belong to you." Maggie offered, trying to reassure the Inspector, her voice as positive as she could force it to be. Meg slipped the strand back in the envelope and quickly swept her hair up with one hand. A large section of hair had been cut just behind her ear.  
"Oh, my word." Maggie grimaced, looking to her brother to take the lead.  
"We will get to the bottom of this, Inspector Thatcher." He looked her square in the eye as he spoke. Meg saw the promise in his eyes. She felt a little less worried.  
By the time the Mounties walked back to the post's main room, Ben had heard Constable Wilder's life story, or it felt like it to the teenager anyway. He'd heard at least the top five stories of the officer's career, each one more boring than the last. Ben thought to himself that he was probably biased, what with listening to his father's stories. It wasn't every RCMP officer that would get stuck in a bank vault during a robbery and end up flooding it to get out. Fraser had dozens more, exciting stories.  
"Hey, Ben, are you ready for those saltine crackers?" The Inspector asked, her face still pale but her voice and attitude more calm.  
"Yes, thank you." The boy pushed himself up from a metal folding chair and followed Meg back toward her office. As small as Spencer Falls post was, Inspector Thatcher's office still reflected her elegant tastes. The walls were a light, sandstone. White, lace curtains dimmed the afternoon light behind her desk, olive green drapes framed either side of the window. A nondescript but solid, wooden desk took up the center of the room. Bookshelves ran the length of the side wall to the right, handy to the desk. A painting of a country cottage in a gold, oval frame hung on the left side wall, black, fluer de lis sconces on either side. Two, brown, leather chairs sat facing the desk. A gold desk lamp with a green glass globe sat to the right side of the desk. Opposite it sat the computer and the telephone. It was professional, efficient and Meg Thatcher in every way. A potted plant sat on a stand beneath the window, behind the desk.  
"Here you go, Ben." Meg pulled an unopened pack of saltines out of a bottom drawer of her desk and handed them to the boy.  
"Thank you, Inspector. I've never been motion sick before." He took the bottle of water Meg handed him as well.  
"You'll out grow it, I'm sure." She motioned for her guests to have a seat. Ben certainly hoped he would, preferably before they had to board a bush plane again.  
The Inspector pulled a file from the nearest book case and handed it to Fraser.  
"This is the duty schedule. No sentry duty this time." A teasing smile briefly pulled at Meg's full, red lips. Benton looked up from the form, an amused glimmer in his blue eyes. Neither Maggie nor Ben caught the inside joke. "I've tried to give you both varying shifts so that you'll encounter the maximum number of my staff during the next two weeks." Meg returned to the task at hand. It was difficult with Fraser around. Even after all that time, he still had a way of distracting her, of driving her crazy in the best ways.  
"You certainly are well organized." Maggie commented neutrally after Fraser handed her the schedule.  
"Rest has been elusive lately, to say the least." Meg responded dryly, one brow raised. She felt like she hadn't slept in a year. She sighed tiredly and suggested a tour of Spencer Falls.  
***


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Chapter 5 Family Dinner  
The Cabin ….  
Fraser rolled his bedroll out on the military cot. It had been too many hours since he'd gotten out of his bed that morning in Chicago. Traveling with Ben had been wonderful. The boy had a million questions. Fraser took the time to answer as many of them as he could. He remembered a time when his grandfather had answered his questions with gentle patience and understanding. Grandmother Fraser had been a little less patient but in her way, taught Benton just as much.  
"Dad, Aunt Maggie wants to know if you want to ketchup or mustard on your mackerel patty sandwich?" Ben's voice interrupted Fraser's memories. The Mountie looked up to see a younger version of himself standing in the bedroom door frame, blue eyes and all.  
"Mustard, tell her I'll be along as soon as I've washed up." Fraser straightened up. The boy turned and walked back to the kitchen. Listening, Fraser could hear the sound of mackerel patties frying in the cast iron skillet. The smell of green beans simmering on the back burner filled the small cabin. Fraser walked into the kitchen after washing his hands in cold water and rubbing the clean, crisp water on his face.  
"There wasn't a lot to work with, we'll have to get supplies tomorrow." Maggie spoke without turning around. She could tell her brother's heavier steps from Ben's as she tended the skillet.  
"It smells good anyway." Ben piped up as he set three, Styrofoam plates on the rectangular table to the side of the stove and sink. Maggie turned back to look at him with a smile.  
"Diefenbaker would be a pitiful beggar if he were here." Fraser missed his half-wolf companion. Maggie and Ben laughed. They'd both grown quite fond of the old wolf. Aurora got up from before the fire place and came over to beg for a mackerel patty at Maggie's feet.  
"You are your father's daughter, aren't you greedy girl." The blonde Mountie pulled one of the finished patties in half and dropped it into Aurora's reach. In two seconds she had devoured it.  
"Do you need help with anything, Maggie?" Fraser asked, peering over her shoulder at the stove top.  
"Yes, would you get the cornbread out of the oven for me?" It had been over a year since she'd had to lift a heavy skillet of corn bread out of her oven. It wasn't that she wasn't capable, but Ray did it so much easier. It made him feel useful. Maggie stepped aside and let Benton haul the golden brown pone out. Quickly, he set the ten inch skillet on an empty burner.  
"Will you turn it out on a plate for me, please, Benton?" Maggie flipped a mackerel patty with one hand and slid out a glass plate from the cabinet with the other. A few seconds later Fraser had emptied the skillet and cut it into eight, triangular wedges. Steam rose out of the thick wedges.  
As a family, such as it were, Fraser, Maggie and Ben sat down to eat dinner. Aurora laid at Maggie's feet.  
"Are you looking forward to going to camp, Ben?" Maggie asked, hoping he was.  
"Yeah, I've never been to camp before." The boy shrugged as he put his mackerel patty between two pieces of bread. When he heard the silence after his statement he knew his dad and his aunt were exchanging one of their Fraser/Mountie looks while he wasn't looking.  
"Mom never had the money to send me anywhere. We had a good time anyway. She would take me on long drives and tell me stories, or we'd sing along with the radio." Ben tried to make it sound like it wasn't a big deal. He knew his dad already felt guilty for missing the first thirteen years of his life. In his way, Ben knew the Mountie was trying to make it up to him. They'd caught baseball games occasionally at Wrigley Field the season before and played hockey at least once a week. Ben never had to wonder where his father was or who was waiting at the house when he got home from school. He liked having that kind of stability, even if he was too young to actually realize it.  
"My mum would take me out for weeks at a time in the summer, just the two of us. She'd tell ghost stories before bed and teach me how to set traps." Maggie's eyes danced. Her mother had been a larger than life figure, not only to her but in the community.  
"What kind of things do you think he'll need for camp, Maggie?" Fraser asked, shifting the subject. He didn't want to talk about his parents or grandparents.  
"I don't know, can you think of anything, Ben?" Maggie asked. She hadn't helped him pack his things this time. After a spoon full of pork and beans the boy shook his head.  
"No, Aunt Maggie, I think I have everything." His voice cracked halfway through his sentence. Maggie smiled, Ben had grown so much in the past year. She envied Benton sometimes, having a son. She'd hoped to start a family during her first marriage but that had went bust. In retrospect, it was probably a good thing she and Matt McKenzie hadn't had children. Instead, Maggie had found a comfortable life with the RCMP and now Ray. Neither of them had been in any hurry to change their lives.  
"Hey, Dad, what do you know about this Inspector Thatcher?" Ben buried some of his mashed potatoes in pork and beans to disguise the taste of the potatoes. Fraser took a drink of water, thinking about his brief time with Meg at the Consulate.  
"Inspector Thatcher is a career RCMP officer, she attained her rank early." He had to dig deep for something that wasn't personal about her. "She's proficient in semaphore."   
Maggie silently began shaking her head. Her brother was digging a hole and she recognized it. Aurora sat up, ears perked forward.  
"You like her, don't you?" Ben grinned as he took a sip of water.  
"Heavens to Betsy, is it that obvious?" Fraser leaned back in his chair and threw up his hands.  
"Yeah, kinda." Ben chuckled. Maggie hid her laughter. She'd seen the way Benton looked at Inspector Thatcher when they'd first met.  
"Don't worry, Benton, we won't let it slip." Maggie reassured him, her laughter sufficiently suppressed. The Mountie shook his head.  
"So, what are you going to do about it?" Ben pushed the subject. He hoped his father would put aside his awkwardness for a change.  
"There isn't anything to be done, Ben. It was all years ago." The Mountie waved him off, his eyes hard. It was Maggie and Ben's turn to exchange furtive glances. They both let the subject drop and returned to their dinners.  
"Good night, Dad, Aunt Maggie." The boy called from the bedroom on the right. He listened as his dad called back from the bedroom across the hall. Maggie called from the front room where she'd bunked on the couch, Aurora laid below her on the floor. The part wolf barked her good night to everyone.  
"Good night, girl." Maggie scratched her best friend between the ears. She felt the warm, wet lick of Aurora's tongue in response. In a few minutes the whole cabin lay silent.  
Two o'clock …  
Ben woke up, startled at not being in his own bed in Chicago. It took him a moment to realize he was in Spencer Falls, in Canada. Quietly, he got out of bed and tip-toed to the kitchen. As stealthily as possible, the boy poured himself a glass of water.  
"Ben, is that you?" Maggie raised up on one elbow and peered over the back of the couch.  
"It's me, Aunt Maggie, I'm okay." Ben whispered loudly. She got up anyway and walked into the kitchen. She wanted to see him for herself. Fraser had told her Ben had had a few nightmares about his kidnapping the year before. They'd been few and far between.  
"What woke you up?" Maggie wrapped herself up in one of her brother's flannel shirts, covering her white, granny nightgown.  
"I don't know, I just woke up." Ben sat down at the table with his water. He wiped the sleep from his eyes, his dark hair sticking up every which way.  
"I was thinking, before I went to sleep, do you think Dad will ever get married?" The boy leaned on one hand, sipping his water. Maggie thought for a moment, trying to think of the right words.  
"Honey, I don't know." The truth was the only way to go about it.  
"Why? I mean, women talk to him all the time. I'm not good with girls, but I know when they're interested. He doesn't seem interested back." Ben ran his fingers through his hair, making it worse.  
"Benton is a complex man. He's loved exactly twice, the first time was your mother. It hurt him badly, how it ended between them. Now he has you, and that makes him very happy, happier than I've seen him since I've known him." Maggie laid the back of her hand against Ben's cheek.  
"I know that. I've heard people say that." He straightened up, concentrating. "What I mean is, is he still in love with my mom?" Maggie saw the confusion in the boy's blue eyes.  
"In love? No. Does he love her? Yes. Benton loves unconditionally when he loves. That is why he still has feelings for the Inspector." Maggie smiled. She still didn't know why Benton had a thing for the 'Dragon Lady', but he did. The feeling was mutual from what she could tell from Thatcher's behavior.  
"Is Inspector Thatcher the second love you said earlier?" Ben persisted, trying to fit the woman into his life's framework. Maggie nodded.  
"Why is Dad so weird around her, and why did he shut me down earlier at dinner?" Ben was wide awake and his keen mind was in overdrive.  
"Benton's been hurt before, it's hard to open yourself up to that kind of intense pain again." Maggie spoke from experience.  
"Yeah, I'd say so." Ben toyed with his eyetooth as he thought. Maggie watched him, knowing that he would only be this innocent for a short while.  
"Is there anything I can do to help?" The wheels in Ben's mind spun like pinwheels. Maggie read the progression across his face.  
"Just be supportive, let him know if you're alright with him having someone in his life." Maggie answered through a yawn.  
"Thanks, Aunt Maggie, I'm going back to bed." Ben stood up and gave his aunt a rare hug. "I do want Dad to find someone that makes him as happy as you and Uncle Ray are." He left her sitting at the kitchen table with his half empty glass of water and the overhead light on.  
"I hope he does too, Ben." Maggie stretched and yawned. She put the glass in the sink and went back to her own bed.  
***  
Fraser heard his son's feet hit the hardwood flooring in the hallway outside the bedroom doors. He started to get up to check on him until he heard Maggie's voice in the living room. When he continued to hear them talking he got up. With his usual, casual stealth, Benton padded into the living room in his red long johns. Something in Ben's voice halted him before he got to the kitchen entrance. He heard Ben's questions and Maggie's answers. It hit him hard when he heard the boy's question about Meg Thatcher. His sister's answer was right on the money about him. Victoria's betrayal had cut him like no knife ever could. It had left his heart lying in pieces along the bottom of his soul. Being smitten with Meg felt like cheating on Victoria. He knew what he felt was not reality.  
His son's words, "I do want Dad to find someone that makes him as happy as you and Uncle Ray are." made him feel grateful that he had gotten to know the boy before it was too late. Fraser also felt grateful that he and Victoria had such a wonderful son, even if it wasn't something either of them had anticipated.  
Carefully, Fraser tip-toed back to his cot in the room on the left. He turned his back on the door so Ben wouldn't know he'd been awake.   
***


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Chapter 6  
The Post …  
Meg checked her make-up one more time before Fraser arrived. She looked forward to seeing Ben again. Looking at him was like looking at a younger Benton Fraser. Taking a look at the original copy, Meg's breath caught. He stood behind her as she faced the window behind her desk, checking her reflection in the mirror.  
"Constable Fraser, you caught me unaware." Meg turned around, snapping her compact closed and shoving it into her pocket.  
"My apologies, Inspector Thatcher." Constable Fraser looked properly contrite when she studied his features. She saw a mischievous twinkle in Ben's eyes. Maggie stood neutral.  
"Good morning, Constables, Ben. I've called George Daniels, he's expecting us at nine o'clock." Meg checked her watch, eight-thirty. "We have just enough time if we leave now." She pulled her small purse from the top drawer of her desk.  
"I'll see you at lunch, Benton?" Maggie asked with a smile. She wanted to stay behind and get a feel for the place.  
"Yes" Benton nodded, toying with his Stetson. Fraser and Ben both followed Meg out the post door.  
George Daniels' Camp …  
Camp Cumberbatch housed fifty boys, ages seven to fourteen. George Daniels had been running the summer camp for the last twenty years. He had been a friend to Inspector Thatcher when she first arrived in Spencer Falls, introducing her around to the important members of the community. He had kept an eye on the lady Mountie since.  
The fifty-something mountain man stood over six feet with a thick, white beard he kept neatly trimmed. George loved kids like most people love ice cream. He and his wife could never have any, so they hosted and tried to help as many as they could.  
The camp sat on forty acres of gently rolling hills with the three acre lake in the center. It was a technology-free zone while the boys were in camp. They could call home once a day, if they chose. When it rained, they played board games, cards, or something non-electronic. Inspector Thatcher had helped out, going on a camp-out at least once a summer with George and his wife along with the boys. She pulled up in front of the Cumberbatch Club, the dining and recreation area for the camp. The large, log structure faced south, warming it for most of the day.  
"Hey, Meg, you're early." A big guy waved.  
"George, I'd like to introduce you to Constable Benton Fraser and his son, Ben." Meg met the big guy on the front steps and shook hands.  
"Mr. Daniels, hello." Fraser shook hands with him. Three boys came running out past him. "Whoa, slow down, fellas, it'll still be there in a minute." All three of them turned and waved, slowing to a jog.  
"You must have your hands full." Constable Fraser grinned, as Daniels shook his head.  
"Yea, I stay busy. So Meg filled me in, she said you were here for an RCMP officer swap and that you didn't have anyone for Ben here." George's brown eyes took in the curious teen as he looked around him at the bunk houses and the lake beyond.  
"That's correct. I appreciate you allowing Ben to join after the summer session has started." The big guy waved him away with a good natured grin.  
"Anything for Miss Meg here, that's what the boys call her." George saw the pleading expression on her face, begging him to talk about anything else.  
"What will Ben need for camp, Mr. Daniels?" Fraser, thankfully for Meg, changed the subject. George thought for a moment.  
"Ah, not much I'd imagine, a pair of swim trunks, a spare pair of tennis shoes, the boys like to stomp around in the mud surrounding the lake, we've found that a spare pair is good to have on hand."  
"Thank you again, George. I'll see you the third week in July for the yearly camping trip." Meg hoped to cut the conversation as short as possible, before the big guy could start telling stories. They'd be there all day if he did, not to mention there were a few on her that she hoped Fraser never heard.  
"That I will, Meg, don't forget the marshmallows." George grinned. He hadn't seen Meg this nervous in a while. There was something about this constable that had her on edge.  
"I won't, you don't forget the graham crackers. Tell Tootie hello for me." The lady Mountie edged toward the top step of the porch.  
"Well, Constable Fraser, I'll have Ben here call you this evening so he can tell you about camp." George shook hands with Fraser again.  
"Thank you kindly, Mr. Daniels." Fraser felt his throat closing at the thought of Ben spending a night away from him.  
"Ben, you can reach me on my cell phone or contact me at the post. I've put Inspector Thatcher's number, as well as the post's number, in your duffel bag. Oh, there's also Maggie's number if you should need anything." Fraser wracked his brain to think if there was anything he'd forgotten to tell the boy.  
"I'll be okay, Dad, I have your number, Aunt Maggie's, the Inspector's, the post's, I even have Uncle Ray's and Francesca's if I need it. Push comes to shove and I'll call Constable Turnbull." Ben reassured him. The boy wore a patient expression, like they'd gone through this on a routine basis.  
"I know, Ben, I just want you safe." Benton pulled his boy into a quick hug, ruffling his short, dark hair.  
"Be careful, Dad." Ben pulled away, his duffel bag on one shoulder.  
"I'll call Victoria tomorrow and tell her you've settled in." The Mountie tried hard to contain his anxiety.  
"Okay, Dad." The boy nodded, knowing that a conversation with her wasn't easy for him.  
"Thank you for arranging this, Inspector Thatcher." Ben turned to the lady Mountie, his blue eyes catching the morning sunlight.  
"Have fun, Ben, I'm glad I was able to meet you. I hope to see you again before the officer swap program is done." Meg shook his hand before he turned to go inside with Mr. Daniels.  
Benton put his Stetson on and adjusted it after he took one last look back at Ben. He waved as he stepped into the Jeep Liberty's front seat. Ben waved back.  
"He seems to be a level headed, young man, Constable Fraser." Meg said, wishing she didn't have to be so formal. It reminded her of her old, 'Dragon Lady' persona she'd tried to leave in Chicago.  
"Ben is, yes. I believe he'll be fine." Fraser stared straight ahead, out the window. He'd laid his Stetson on the back seat, so he twiddled his thumbs to be doing something with his hands.  
"I was surprised when I heard you had a child." Meg asked, fishing for the story behind it. She drove slowly, in no hurry to get back to the post.  
"As was I, Sir." He gave her a finite answer, on purpose she was certain.  
"I hadn't kept up with anyone from the Chicago Consulate. The last I heard you were on a leave of absence." Meg tried a different track. He was once again, her subordinate officer. She couldn't ask the questions she actually wanted the answers to.  
"Yes, I was. After a year I resumed my duties at the consulate. Detective Kowalski returned to the Chicago Police Department as well. He was the lieutenant of his precinct before he retired last year and moved up here." Fraser made a mental note to call former Lieutenant Welsh and inquire after his health.  
"Constable Fraser, do you realize you just told me more information about Detective Kowalski than you did yourself? I asked about you." Meg asked, exasperated. As much as she secretly loved Benton Fraser, she'd on occasion wanted to strangle him for his evasiveness.  
"My apologies, Sir. My life hasn't changed much since we served together in Chicago, until last year." Benton looked over at his boss lady, a bit puzzled at her behavior. He knew she wanted to know how Ben came to be, but he was reluctant to tell the story.  
After being shut down twice, Meg didn't try to make conversation again. She drove in silence, her thoughts running as fast as the vehicle. The one person she'd confided in wasn't confiding in her in return. She hated to think that she was just another one of his crusades. Outside the Jeep the hills and valleys sped past. It was a sunny day, with scattered, cotton ball clouds floating overhead. Rabbits and birds moved around almost without a care.  
What appeared to be a long, thick snake crossed the lane ahead of them. One either side of the road it was clear for acres. Meg slowed down to avoid it. When she stopped they heard a loud pop and flapping as the rubber began to smack the pavement. Meg had a hard time keeping the vehicle under control. She managed to pull it to the side of the road.  
"What was that?" Inspector Thatcher threw off her seat belt and started to open the door. Fraser latched onto her arm.  
"It may not be safe, Inspector." He saw her dark eyes flash in anger.  
"I must have ran over a nail or something, Constable Fraser." Meg pulled away and opened the door. She heard him get out of the vehicle on the other side. Stepping up to the long, black lump, Meg saw that it was a two by four studded with nails, meant to flatten the tires. It was three feet from the pumper of the Jeep and even farther away from where the tire had begun flattening. Fraser began scanning the horizon as Meg turned to examining the front, driver's side tire. She felt the spray of dirt hit her in the face when a bullet hit the front fender beside her. Meg let out a choked scream. Fraser rounded the end of the Jeep in record time. He half helped, half dragged Meg to the other side of the vehicle. They flattened against the ground as much as possible.  
"I shouldn't have gotten out." Meg said in surprise, more to herself than to Fraser. She had turned pale and looked vacantly ahead for a moment.  
"That's not important right now, Inspector, what is important is getting help from the post." Ben began digging for his cellular phone.  
"It's no use, there's no signal out here." Meg shook her head. She wiped dirt out of her face, tears threatening to spill. Getting Fraser in trouble wasn't part of the deal when she'd called for his help.  
"Then we are in trouble, Inspector." Fraser's tone wasn't reassuring like she longed for. A second shot hit the driver's side door.  
"What about the radio in the Jeep?" Meg thought, her eyes brightening.  
"Good idea, where is it?" Fraser tried to remember the contents of the vehicle.  
"It's in the hatch." Meg answered. Another shot punctuated the air between them. Fraser opened the back door and crawled onto the back seat. He hoped that he could reach the radio without being seen.  
"Be careful, Fraser, the shooter keeps getting closer." Meg's voice was weak and shrill. Fraser looked back, into her eyes. He smiled his reassuring smile. Without a word, Fraser returned to his mission. Reaching into the standard emergency kit, a shot shattered the back windshield. The bullet exited the front windshield.  
"That's out of the question." Meg pulled on his boot frantically. Fraser eased back to the ground outside the Jeep.  
"We're running out of options, Fraser." The Inspector turned to him, her eyes wide. She took a deep breath to calm herself down, breaking down in front of Benton was not an option.  
"Yes, Sir, we are." Fraser scanned the road in either direction. A passing vehicle could provide assistance or put more people in danger. The latter was unacceptable.  
"Do you have any ideas?" Meg asked, lying on her belly in the dirt. Fraser gave her a puzzled expression. He began to rub his ear as he thought of possibilities.  
"No, no I don't." He heard Meg groan.  
"I've seen you jump off of roof tops, crawl hand over hand beneath a moving train, and now you don't have any ideas!" Meg glared at him for a moment.  
"My apologies, Inspector Thatcher, I, uh," He was interrupted.  
"Don't do that, Fraser, don't." Meg turned to him, her eyes suddenly tired.  
"Don't what?"  
"Don't apologize for not being perfect." She sighed. All those years ago, he'd always been apologizing for something.  
"Inspector Thatcher, I …." She silenced him with a glance.  
"We haven't seen each other in over thirteen years, yet we fall into the same pattern as back in Chicago. I was tired of it then, I'm sick of it now." Meg openly wiped the tears from her eyes.  
Whatever had held her back before was gone now. It was a different Meg Thatcher laying on her stomach beside him on the side of the road. Fraser had noted the change in her when he heard what George Daniels had said about the yearly camping trip with the boys from the camp. He couldn't say he hadn't changed over the course of the last decade and a half.  
"Every time I tried to open myself up to you I was pushed away." Benton shook his head, his gaze looking off into the distance, into the past long buried.  
"I'm at fault, I know, Fraser. I had hoped that this time would be different. It's my turn to apologize, to you." Meg swallowed the lump in her throat and forced the apology past her pride.  
"It is appreciated but unnecessary, Inspector." When Benton spoke there was no mask of professionalism or neutrality.  
"I didn't always push you away, Fraser." Meg remembered one time, if briefly, that she pulled him closer than anyone.  
"The train." He looked at his hands lying on the asphalt before looking at her again.  
"Yes, the train." Meg repeated. She'd spent many an hour thinking about what had happened on the roof of that runaway train. Sometimes she could almost feel his arms around her again.  
"Red still suits you, Sir." Fraser responded with a twinkle in his blue eyes. Meg laughed, surprised at his sneaky humor. It made her feel better. A shot blew out one of the few remaining windows, this time from a slightly different angle.  
"We have to do something, Fraser, now." Meg froze, her head covered with both hands.  
"I have an idea." Fraser pulled his pocket knife and jammed it into the passenger side front tire. It began blowing air and flattening.  
"I don't think this is a good idea, Fraser." Meg watched as he opened the passenger door and laid the seat back as far as possible.  
"Get into the back seat, on the floor. I'll try to guide the vehicle from here." Fraser hunkered down in the passenger floorboard. Meg shook her head and did as he said. There wasn't much room for her in the shoe box sized backseat. The Jeep roared to life, and with the doors still hanging open, Ben put it in drive and began steering them down the road, toward the post. Fraser depressed the gas feed, hanging over the center console and steered while peeking over the dash. He knew as long as he kept it on the asphalt they'd be fine. Shots began hitting the vehicle as they limped away.  
When they were out of range, Fraser slowed down enough to sit up properly, then he slid over the console and into the driver's seat, not an easy task considering that Meg had the seat pulled up to accommodate her shorter stature. He slid the seat back quickly.  
"I don't see anyone behind us, Fraser." Meg leaned over the passenger seat. Her face was smudged with dirt and there was glass still in her hair.  
"Whomever is trying to kill you meant to ambush us on the way back from the camp. They knew you and I were going there this morning." Fraser's mind began to sort out the culprits.  
"I called George Daniels from my house last night after work." Meg ran her hands through her hair, dislodging most of the glass.  
"I changed the locks on my doors myself after my food was poisoned, Fraser, how did they get in?" The lady Mountie thought back to the safety precautions she'd taken great pains with after poor Perkins' death. She had installed bars on the windows, new locks on the doors and bought a security system.  
"We will find this person." Benton stopped short of promising.  
"Whoever it is doesn't care if he kills an innocent person, as long as he kills me. I've put you and Constable Kowalski in more danger than I'd anticipated." Meg cursed herself for being so stupid.  
"You would have done the same for me, Inspector." Fraser shrugged, glancing over his shoulder at her. Meg wondered if she would have.  
"We'll be at the post in a moment, Fraser, at least this time there should be evidence that I'm not crazy." The lady Mountie changed the subject as they neared Spencer Falls. ***


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Chapter 7  
At the Post …  
Maggie and Aurora sniffed and poked around the post all morning. Constables Hansen and Wilder were as helpful as Maggie wished they weren't. It would been a lot easier to read through personnel files, stored in the cabinets behind Meg's desk, without one or the other of them looking over her shoulder.  
"I wonder what's taking Inspector Thatcher so long to get back to the post?" Hansen said as Maggie tried to fill out the daily report in the dispatch room. They were standing in the main room.  
"I don't know, maybe she and that consulate jockey found a cabin in the woods." Wilder cracked sarcastically. Maggie listened to them, her blood boiling. Aurora sensed the tension in her owner and raised her head.  
"I know, girl, I can't help it." She pounded her fist against the desk. She was seething when her cell phone rang in her pocket.  
"Hello." Maggie hoped it was Ray but she heard Inspector Thatcher's voice instead.  
"Constable Kowalski, Fraser and I are half a mile from the Post. We were ambushed." Meg went on to give her directions. "Have Hansen send for a roll-back to come with you." It puzzled the younger Fraser but she complied without question. She also wondered why Inspector Thatcher hadn't called the main number for the post.  
"Are you both alright?" Was the only question Maggie asked.  
"Nothing to report, Constable." Her voice was strong and calm. Maggie's nerves eased, a bit.  
Twenty Minutes Later ….  
Fraser and Thatcher sat beneath the hatch of the Jeep Liberty, the door swung out on Fraser's left. They were seated as far from each other as possible. Meg felt like a heel for jumping onto Fraser.  
"Benton, Inspector Thatcher, is everything alright?" Maggie asked when she laid eyes on the pair. Fraser stood up, a smile on his face. Thatcher looked a little more shook up.  
"We're fine, Maggie, we were ambushed a few miles from the post as we were headed back here. A homemade spike strip was laid across the road. When we stopped to investigate a sniper opened fire." Fraser summed it up.  
"Where do you want me to take this, Inspector?" The rollback driver shouted as he hooked up the Jeep. The hydraulic winch dragged the disabled vehicle onto it's back slowly.  
"Take it to the post, Charlie, the forensics team will take delivery." Meg answered. It was the third vehicle she'd had yanked out from under her in the last three months.  
"We should get back to the crime scene while the shooter may still be in the vicinity." Maggie suggested, ready to get the investigation underway.  
"Not without backup." The Inspector said, her voice brooked no argument. Maggie looked to Benton for more information but he said nothing.  
"I'll call the post." Fraser volunteered. Meg simply nodded.  
It didn't take long for Constable Wilder to report. The RCMP Jeep was loaded for bear. For the next three hours Thatcher, Fraser, Maggie and Wilder searched for cartridge casings and foot prints along a grid pattern. Aurora used her sensitive nose to help out. It was the she-wolf that found the first shell casing.  
"Inspector Thatcher, Fraser, we have something." Maggie called out several yards from the ambush site. She knelt down and slipped Aurora a biscuit while she scratched her in her favorite spot. The other Mounties came rushing over the uneven ground quickly. They were careful not to taint the scene. Wilder held up a digital camera, snapping a picture of the casings and foot prints. Maggie and Fraser studied the prints, their keen eyes picking up subtle nuances, details that most people couldn't imagine.  
"What do you make of it, Fraser?" Meg asked, knowing that he had already analyzed the information.  
"The sniper is right handed, approximately my height, from the prints I can tell he was waiting for us for some time. His shoes are well worn, a work boot perhaps, from the tread." There was more to it, Meg could tell from his tone. He'd tell her later, when there weren't witnesses to overhear.  
"Hopefully ballistics can pull fingerprints off the casings." The Inspector sighed, knowing in her gut that they wouldn't and that it was a shorter list of who didn't wear work boots in Spencer Falls. They didn't have much to go on.  
"The homemade spike strip is a telling piece of evidence." Maggie added, Aurora sitting beside her, listening intently. Meg gave her a strange look a moment then turned back to looking at the casings Wilder was photographing and collecting.  
"Inspector Thatcher, the post called, Mr. McConaughey called asking for you, there was an equipment theft last night at the mine." Hansen interrupted the conversation. The young officer didn't appreciate fielding the snotty, mining tycoon's calls. He saw his boss' eyes go from chocolate brown to nearly obsidian.  
"Tell McConaughey that one of my officers will be there as soon as possible." Meg struggled to keep her temper in check. It was the morning from hell and she felt like snapping.  
Fraser heard the tone change in Meg's voice. She was nearly shaking when she turned back to the group of subordinate officers.  
"Inspector, I think Constable Wilder can handle this if you'd like to go back to the post." Fraser tried to sound reassuring, his eyes studying her intently.  
"Yes, that's a good idea, Constable Fraser, it has been a long while since breakfast." Meg took a deep breath and pasted on her best face. The way he looked at her, she knew she wasn't fooling him. The Mounties gathered up and took one of the RCMP Jeeps back to the post. No one spoke on the way back, each lost in their thoughts. Fraser tried to get an idea of the kind of person who might want Meg dead. She said she'd made enemies during her time with the CSIS. It would take something very personal for someone to hold such a long and deadly grudge. It occurred to him that he didn't know Margaret 'Meg' Thatcher as well as he once had. The old Thatcher would never have said anything about the pattern they'd gotten into in Chicago. Her behavior was as much a mystery as the identity of the person responsible for the ambush.  
Maggie wondered about the odd expression on Meg's face when she'd mentioned the homemade spike strip. Something more was afoot than the Inspector was telling them. Maggie just hoped it wasn't something that would prove fatal for them.  
Aurora wondered when lunch was coming. She'd seen rabbit tracks in the field and was sorely tempted to follow them. A young, succulent rabbit was better than dry dog kibble or a biscuit any day.  
McConaughey Mining …  
Ambrose McConaughey was a man used to getting what he wanted in life. As the biggest fish in Spencer Fall's little pond, he employed more of the citizens than any other employer or trade in the area. The second generation mining man had tried to get Inspector Thatcher in his hip pocket as soon as she'd been assigned Spencer Falls. She wouldn't budge. Her officers were always making trouble for his company, pulling over his equipment trucks, helping the citizens that wouldn't sell their land to McConaughey Mining Company. It was a cat and mouse game between them.  
A cement block building sat surrounded by heavy, Caterpillar equipment. When Maggie and Constable Hansen pulled up they saw the gravel filled flat sat scattered with pickup trucks, four wheel drives and a few ATV' s.  
"Watch out for McConaughey, he can be," Hansen paused, searching for the word. "abrasive, some would say." The young officer had overheard a few of the conversations between McConaughey and the Inspector. Her 'Ice Queen' routine didn't phase him, the mining man just tried harder.  
"I'll remember that, thank you kindly." Maggie adjusted her Stetson and pulled her jacket's zipper up a little higher. Aurora bounded out of the Jeep behind her.  
"Be on your best behavior, okay?" Maggie stroked her companion's ears before stepping up onto the porch of the bland building. Aurora looked up at her with an angelic expression. Maggie frowned back at her.  
"Hello there." A man's voice called out from the shadows inside the building.  
"Mr. McConaughey, the Inspector sent us to investigate your equipment theft." Hansen called as he topped the wide, wooden steps. A broad shouldered, handsome man somewhere in his forties stepped into the afternoon light. He looked past Hansen to Maggie. Hansen recognized the sly, leering grin that twisted the mining magnate's face. He'd seen it a few times when Inspector Thatcher had met with him.  
"Who have we here, Constable Hansen, I see you've got new blood in Spencer Falls." McConaughey leaned on a support post, his dress shirt's sleeves rolled up to show his muscular forearms.  
"Constable Maggie Kowalski, hello." Maggie stepped up and extended her hand. McConaughey clasped it in both of his. He noted the lady Mountie's sky blue eyes and thick, blonde hair briefly before taking her measurements elsewhere. Aurora whined at her human's feet.  
"Pleased to meet you, Maggie." McConaughey ushered them into the office.  
"Please, call me Constable Kowalski." The lady Mountie set him straight immediately. Aurora positioned herself between Maggie and the stranger.  
"As you wish, Constable." McConaughey took his seat behind a nominal sized desk strewn with paperwork, a computer and telephone.  
"What was taken last night, Mr. McConaughey?" Hansen drew the man's attention back to the purpose of their visit.  
"Someone broke into the garage and stole the catalytic converters on my work trucks, they hit five of my Ford Superduty trucks." Each converter was worth half a month's pay for most people.  
"Has this been a problem in the past?" Maggie asked to no one in particular.  
"There have been a few break-ins over the years, this is the second time in three months though." McConaughey answered, leaning back in his chair, hands laced behind his head.  
"Have you reviewed the security footage yet?" Hansen asked, pulling McConaughey's gaze away from Maggie.  
"Nope, that's why I called you all, I can't make heads or tails from it anyway." Hansen took the cassette from him when McConaughey pulled it from the top drawer of his desk.  
"I'd like to see the area, Mr. McConaughey." Maggie's eyes surveyed the surrounding office. She didn't know how anyone found anything in the chaotic atmosphere.  
"Sure, no problem, Constable Kowalski, anything to help." Ambrose stood up quickly, his hands shoved into his pockets. "Follow me." The Mounties and the she-wolf exited the block building and headed around back to a gravel and mud lot surrounded by chain link fence topped by barbed wire. Someone had cut the log chain securing the ten foot gate span. Both gates hung open, the lock and part of the chain hanging from one side. A security light adorned each corner of the half acre lot between the block office and the garage.  
"Were all of the security lights working last night?" Maggie asked, taking note of the dozen or so cameras covering the inside and outside of the fencing.  
"I'm not certain, Constable Kowalski, my foreman, Doug Ward, called me this morning around seven to tell me there had been a break-in. It was light by the time I got here at around eight." Ambrose looked around at just one aspect of the mining kingdom he'd inherited upon his father's death, and not a minute before.  
"I'd like to speak to him if possible." Maggie requested as she studied one of the lights near the garage.  
"He's at the mining site, up the mountain, I'll send him as soon as his shift is finished." Ambrose hoped he got to see the lady Mountie again. She was a breath of fresh air compared to that shrew, Meg Thatcher.  
Aurora stuck to Maggie's heels like bubble gum on her shoes. The she-wolf didn't like the slick looking stranger.  
"I'm satisfied if you are, Constable Kowalski." Hansen said low, trying not to be overheard.  
"I think we've gleaned as much as we can here, take photos of the trucks, cameras, lights and the cut chain." Maggie saw annoyance and anger in the younger officer's demeanor. It puzzled her. She planned on asking him about it later.  
"We have to get a few photographs before we leave, we'll watch the surveillance footage at the post, Mr. McConaughey." Maggie spoke to the mine owner who'd been watching her the whole time they'd been on the property.  
"Let me give you my home number, in case you have questions." McConaughey offered, pulling a business card out of his wallet and an ink pen from his slacks pocket.  
"I'm certain it's in the phone book, Mr. McConaughey." Maggie declined, her blue eyes icy.  
"I see, Constable Kowalski, you know where to reach me." He turned and left the garage lot with a shrug. Turning, Maggie almost ran her nose into Hansen's chest.  
"My apologies, Constable Kowalski, I was on my way to the vehicle for a camera." Hansen backed off before veering off to his right. His jaw was clenched and the tension rolled off of him in waves.  
"What is your problem with McConaughey, Constable Hansen?" Maggie jogged a few steps to catch up to his longer, faster stride.  
"I should act more professional, I'm sorry, it's just that this guy walks around Spencer Falls like he owns it, which he might as well. Ambrose McConaughey is a snake, and the way he talks to women, all innuendo and trickery. I don't know why Inspector Thatcher puts up with him." Hansen ran his hands through his sandy hair as his opinion spewed out.  
"What do you mean, has he said something to the Inspector that's inappropriate?" Maggie stopped him in his tracks.  
"Not in so many, open words, but he's tried to have her removed from command of the Spencer Falls Post. I think it's because she won't turn a blind eye to his underhanded ways." Hansen shook his head. He was an animated talker when he got underway.  
"I see," Maggie digested the information slowly. "How long has Mr. McConaughey and the Inspector been locked in this, this battle of wills?"  
"Almost from the first day she arrived here and took command. I'm from here, I was a teenager when she arrived. Since Inspector Thatcher arrived, this community has been a better place. She helps out at the camp and is always there for people, answering questions and making phone calls for them to government officials and programs if they need something. Inspector Thatcher goes above and beyond her job description." Hansen calmed down as he extolled Meg's virtues. Maggie sensed a bit of a crush or perhaps hero worship coming from the young man.  
"All Ambrose McConaughey wants is to get rich and he doesn't care how that happens."  
It was a lot to process as they finished up their photographs and drove back to the post. The Meg Thatcher Hansen described wasn't the one Maggie had met for the first time in Chicago.  
***  
Author's Note: I have no idea if the RCMP drive Jeep brand vehicle, it just seemed the most logical choice considering the terrain. Plus, I used to drive one, so I know what they're like.  
***


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Chapter 8  
Meg's Office …  
Benton and Meg rode as far as the post with Maggie and Constable Hansen. Meg sat looking out the rear passenger window the whole way. The main room was empty with Wilder and Hansen on other duties. Afternoon sunlight filled Meg's office as she and Benton stepped through the doors.  
"Are you alright, Inspector Thatcher, you seem shaken." Fraser asked, his voice concerned. He studied her features as she sat down behind her desk.  
"Shaken, yes," Meg let a wry chuckle out as she leaned her head against her leather captain's chair.  
"Understandably so, Sir." Fraser stood across the desk from her. He was glad that no one was around.  
"I've seen ambush tactics like this before, Fraser, during my time with CSIS." Meg wiped her face as if to remove the bad memories.  
"Where were you assigned, Inspector?" Fraser took a seat and pulled it up close to the desk.  
"Iraq, before the attacks of 9/11, that's about all I'm at liberty to say." Meg aged ten years in an instant. "You can call me 'Meg', when no one's around, Fraser. I'm your superior officer in name only." She seemed to shrink in the seat.  
"I take it the assignment was challenging." Fraser asked the open ended question, trying to glean more information from her. Meg met his gaze, a knowing one of her own in her dark eyes.  
"More challenging than Chicago, yes. I learned valuable lessons from my time in Iraq." Chicago was a faraway dream compared to Meg's time in the dessert country, but she wasn't about to go into detail about her experiences. They were too painful.  
"Would you like some lunch, Fraser? We'll go dutch." Meg suggested, trying to derail his questioning. She knew he meant well, but there had been enough questions when she'd gotten back to Canada to last her a lifetime.  
"I'd love to, lead the way, Meg." Benton tried her name out, tasting the sound of it on the tip of his tongue. She liked the sound of it in his voice.  
"I think we can walk, if you don't mind." Meg stood back up and grabbed her purse from the desk drawer. Fraser twirled his Stetson on the end of his finger as he followed her down the street toward a cafe' frequented by the RCMP staff.  
Dinah's Cafe …  
Dinah's Cafe served breakfast twenty-four hours a day and started lunch promptly at eleven. It was a small place, with no particular theme to it's décor. A wide, high mirror lined the back wall of the place. The narrow building sported booths on the left and a counter on the right. In the back, beyond the mirror sat the kitchen, a large window separated it from the counter.  
"It isn't as fancy as anything in Chicago, but they're clean and the food is good." Meg said as she opened the glass door. Benton was game to try any place that his boss lady praised.  
"Hello, Sabrina," Meg greeted a tall, brunette woman in her late twenties standing behind the counter.  
"Inspector, good afternoon, what can I get for you?" Sabrina's blue eyes and dark curls added to her porcelain complexion had the effect of making her look like a china doll.  
"I'll take an iced tea and a chicken salad." Meg hitched one hip up onto a stool then the other. The waitress jotted her order down in two phrases before turning to Fraser.  
"What can I get for you?" She asked with a smile. Meg sat back and watched the interaction.  
"Coffee and," Fraser paused, scanning the menu board behind her head. "a moose burger, dressed, thank you." Benton answered, his hands laced on the counter in front of him. Sabrina's eyes went to his left hand immediately. Fraser's gaze read the rest of the menu board above her head. Meg smiled, some things hadn't changed.  
"I imagine living alone, you frequent this cafe." Benton turned to her, catching Meg watching him. She didn't look away as she used to when it happened.  
"No, not really, I enjoy cooking, when I don't, I call George Daniels and his wife. Tootie invites me to eat with them." Meg leaned on her right hand, looking at Fraser on her left. He looked back at her unguarded. They searched each other's faces for a moment.  
"Here's your order, Inspector." Sabrina slid a large bowl with grilled chicken squares in a salad of lettuce, Tommy-toe tomatoes, and cucumbers. The waitress handed her a couple packets of thousand island dressing. Meg examined the containers, squeezing them to check for puncture marks. Fraser watched her.  
"Here's you coffee, Mister." Sabrina slid the steaming, dark liquid in front of him just before his late lunch.  
The pair of Mounties ate quietly. They traded news of officers they'd crossed paths with in their careers. A few were dead, others retired or nearing retirement.  
"Had you heard about Sergeant Frobisher?" Benton asked as he sipped his second cup of coffee.  
"No, how is the Sergeant?" Meg pushed her salad bowl away, still a third full.  
"Passed on, he was eighty, over eighty actually." Benton tried to remember how old his father's dear friend was at his death. That lead to a discussion about how the Sergeant had passed. Meg's eyes widened when she heard he'd died while chasing a burglar. Frobisher ran into a television track wire made of steel someone had used for a clothesline. His feet went out from beneath him and he hit the back of his head. Doctors said he never felt a thing.  
"How is Miss Vecchio?" Meg hadn't raised that question, partially for fear of the answer.  
"She married while I was on leave and has four boys, ages fourteen, twelve, ten and six. Francesca is doing well, she's happy." Benton thought back to the boys and how they called him 'Uncle Fraser'.  
"Are you happy, Fraser?" Meg asked, knowing she was pushing their new found honesty.  
"Yes, I've come to be." He looked her straight in the eye when he answered.  
"Since you found Ben?" She continued to press her luck. Meg was dying to know the story behind Fraser's son.  
"Yes, since Ben and since Maggie married Ray." It finally all fell into place. Fraser finally had a family.  
"I'm glad to hear it." Meg stopped short of laying her hand over his.  
"What about you?" Fraser asked, pushing back. It seemed strange to be asking such a personal question, but no more strange than her asking them.  
"I find working here in Spencer Falls rewarding, yes." Meg answered with her best, most confident face on. Benton hated to see her close down again, especially after he had obliged her and been forthcoming.  
"We should be getting back to the post, they'll think the assassin finished the job." Meg sighed.  
"Sabrina, two tickets, please." Meg asked standing up. The waitress handed her the tickets.  
"Have a good day, Inspector, I'll see you later." Sabrina smiled, not really looking at the lady Mountie.  
"Good-bye, Sabrina, tell your husband hello for me." Meg didn't mean to needle her but she saw the blush rise on the younger woman's face.  
"I will, Inspector."  
Meg handed Benton the cheaper of the two tickets-hers. She pulled out the money for Benton's ticket. Sabrina saw the switch but said nothing. Meg didn't miss the knowing twinkle in the younger woman's eyes as she laid the money down on the counter.  
"Sir, there's been a mistake, the chicken salad was your order." Fraser held his hand out to stop the sale.  
"No, no mistake, Fraser." Meg insisted, trying to get him to quieten down.  
"There's a considerable difference in price, Sir." Fraser persisted.  
"Then you buy coffee in the morning, okay." Meg's cheeks burnt as she sent Fraser dire, mental messages to shut up. The lady Mountie opened the door after taking her change. Fraser was on her heels, scrambling to stuff his change in his pocket.  
"Inspector Thatcher, what were you doing in there?" Fraser set his Stetson on his head and trailed her to the post.  
"Nothing Fraser, nothing, just trying to say thank you for earlier today." Meg grew more embarrassed the farther they walked. Embarrassed that her flirtation had failed. If she'd been flirting with anyone else it would have worked.  
"I missed something, haven't I?" Fraser stopped behind her. He hadn't been this confused since their days together in Chicago.  
"No, Fraser, you haven't, I made a mistake, forget this ever happened." Meg kept on walking down the sidewalk in front of the grocery store.  
"Like I was supposed to forget the train?"  
She stopped in her tracks when she heard those words. Her breath caught in her chest.  
"That was a long time ago, Fraser." Did he have to bring up her one moment of weakness?  
"I'm not a voice mail, you can't pick and chose what to keep and what to delete." Fraser's words hit her like a sledge hammer. Meg turned on her heel and stomped back to him.  
"I never meant to do that to you, Fraser. I was scared. If I hurt you, I'm sorry. I hurt myself in the process. I put my pride before everything else back then. A moment ago, I was just trying to do you a good turn, trying to," She stopped herself from saying, 'flirt'. The old walls were down and Meg didn't know how to protect herself. She felt vulnerable.  
"You've just announced to the whole community that I was," Meg gritted her teeth, avoiding what she meant to say, "that there's more between us than anyone needs to know." She could have slapped herself in the face for saying it, but there it was anyway.  
Fraser stood in the sidewalk, staring at his boots for a moment. When he looked back at her, Meg saw the mask she'd come to know so long ago.  
"I don't want us to dance around each other anymore, Fraser." Meg said, then she turned and walked to the post, down the street. She was angry, mostly at herself, but at Fraser as well. He hadn't been any more open about his feelings back then than she had.  
Meg walked into her office, closing the door behind her. Maggie, Hansen and Wilder all three watched her stomp into her office without saying a word. As expected, Fraser followed her. He still had questions but couldn't verbalize them. Maggie cocked her eyebrow in question when Benton met her gaze. He shook his head. She knew what it was about instantly.  
When Fraser got to Meg's office, he saw the closed door and turned around. “Let her hide” he thought. He knew from experience how stubborn she could be. Their moment of mutual honesty had been short lived.  
Slowly, he came back into the main room and sat down across the desk from Maggie. Aurora came over to him and laid at her head on his knee. Gently, Fraser stroked her furry neck. Hansen and Wilder buried their noses in their assignments.  
"Hansen and I went to investigate the equipment theft at McConaughey Mining. Whoever stole the converters knew the security lights and cameras well." Maggie started off with a neutral topic.  
"Have you watched the security tape yet?" Fraser leaned on the desk.  
"Let me get the television." They spent the next few hours staring at figures only a few inches tall at double speed. Both of them were ready to pull their hair out.  
"Here we are." Maggie paused the tape and played it at normal speed. Benton watched as the security light near the back went off. The others stayed on, and had the whole time. Both Mounties leaned in to look closer. They saw a dark figure creep around to the front of the gate and stand there for a few minutes, fiddling with the chain. A moment later the gates swung open and the figure walked in, a hood over their head. They headed straight to the back, letting themselves inside the garage. A few minutes later the thief threw a converter over the fence. Over the next hour, four more were tossed over the fence.  
"We should have the forensics team enlarge the image." Maggie suggested, rubbing her eyes. Fraser looked at his watch, "Oh dear, I was supposed to call Victoria and tell her that Ben was settled in." The Mountie lamented. As he pulled out his phone to make the call it rang.  
"Hey, Dad, I just finished dinner. How was your day?" Ben started off the conversation, his voice excited.  
"I've had quite an eventful day. Tell me what you've done today." Fraser redirected his son, hoping to avoid telling him about the ambush. Ben told him about his bunk mates, their names and where they were from. They all thought it was cool that his dad was a Mountie with the Chicago Consulate. None of them had been to the Windy City.  
"Tell Mom I love her, will you?" Ben asked finally. He'd noticed how quiet his dad was but decided not to ask.  
"I will, Ben. Take care, I love you." Fraser said the last phrase distinctly, meaning every word.  
"I love you too, Dad, be careful tomorrow and tell Aunt Maggie and Inspector Thatcher hello for me, scratch Aurora's neck for me." They hung up a moment later. Maggie watched the conversation, mildly envious of her brother.  
"Ben sends his regards to you and Aurora." Fraser smiled broadly. Maggie could only smile.  
"I think it's time to go, our shift was over two hours ago." Maggie pointed out. They'd both lost track of time, not an unusual occurrence for either of them.  
"Yes, what can be gleaned has been until forensics takes it." Fraser straightened up, his joints protesting after such a long time in a folding chair. Maggie noted the time stamp of the thief's entrance and collected her things. Aurora gladly stood up, eager to go. The she-wolf trotted to the door, urging the humans to hurry. Fraser locked the tape in the safe.  
During the ride back to the cabin, both Maggie and Benton were quiet. Each of them had had an enlightening day. Fraser had been through an ambush, an escape, being asked to lunch and an argument with Meg. It was a lot for one day, even for Fraser.  
***


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Chapter 9  
Meg's House …  
The Inspector worked until she knew that Fraser and Maggie were gone before she left the post herself. It wasn't unusual for her to work late hours, especially since the attempts on her life had started. The more witnesses, the better she reasoned.  
Tonight was different. She didn't want to face Fraser after the fight they'd had walking back to the post. Meg had made a conscious effort to let her guard down with him and he'd been forthcoming. When he turned the tables on her she'd frozen. She wanted so badly to be herself around him. She wanted that moment on top of the train to repeat itself. Meg thought that if it did, she would wedge the moment wider, explore it.  
Sitting in front of her dressing table, staring at her reflection, Meg Thatcher didn't like what she saw. The image of a lost, lonely woman greeted her. Gone was the fire and spirit she'd had before going to Iraq. In her early career, Meg had been driven, determined, and prideful. She'd also been cold and lonely. Years spent being strong and proving that she was a woman capable of the job had turned her into a first class bitch.  
What she felt stirring for Fraser all those years ago had threatened to break her facade like an egg shell. He was everything she wanted to be; respected, humble, honest and sought after. People took to him naturally, something Meg both loved and hated about him. She wished he only had eyes for her. With so many people clamoring for his attention, his help, she felt lost in the shuffle. The few times he had opened himself up to her, Meg had pushed him away. She wanted all of Benton Fraser or none of him.  
"What were you thinking, Meg, what were you thinking?" She asked herself as she washed her make-up off. She felt as raw and naked on the inside as her face was on the outside after applying the make-up remover. Fourteen years was a long time to hold a torch for someone. Meg wondered how she could think he would be interested in her, what with his new family and the time and distance between them.  
Looking at Fraser, she felt those feelings as fresh and strong as the last time she'd seen him in the spring of 1998. He hadn't aged he'd simply, and beautifully, matured. Benton still had that quiet magnetism that sucked Meg in and threatened to drown her for lack of air to breathe. His voice, his stance, his clear, blue eyes, all served to shatter her equilibrium. She wanted to lose herself in him, to shed her inhibitions, self-doubt and guilt. Meg wanted to flirt with him and have him flirt in return.  
"How could he if he didn't feel the attraction?" Meg wondered as she brushed her hair before she nestled into her queen sized bed for the night. "After what I've done, how could he ever feel anything but disgust or maybe pity for me?" She sighed as she turned off the bedside lamp and tried to settle her mind.  
The Cabin …  
Fraser fixed a quick meal of leftover mackerel patties sandwiches with pork and beans. They hadn't bothered to stop by the general store for groceries, they were too tired.  
"Diefenbaker will be here tomorrow." Maggie said as she poured Aurora's dinner into her aluminum dish on the kitchen floor.  
"Yes, I'll be glad to see him. It's been too long since he's been anywhere near the wild." Fraser broke off a piece of mackerel patty and dropped it in Aurora's bowl. The she-wolf looked up at him as if to say 'thank you'. The Mountie nodded. Turning back to his task, he saw Maggie give him a reprimanding expression. When he shrugged she sighed, after all, hadn't she done the same thing the night before?  
"From what you told me, Ben was excited to go to camp." Maggie set the table, her thick, blonde hair in a low ponytail, free of her Stetson.  
"Yes, he is, it's good that he gets to spend time with children his own age outside of school. I'm afraid that Ben doesn't have many friends in Chicago." Fraser laid out the warmed patties on a plate and turned the stove range off.  
"I thought he and Francesca's oldest son, Caleb, were friends." Maggie stopped to think of the boy's name.  
"They are, in their way. Caleb often gets frustrated with Ben, especially when they're working on something together." Fraser sighed.  
"Ben is a perfectionist." Maggie smiled as she sat down at the table.  
"Yes, he tends to involve himself in projects, often to the exclusion of all else." Fraser set the mackerel patties on the table and seated himself.  
"Reminds me of someone else I know." Fraser looked up from his plate, his brows lifted at his sister's gentle jab. He shook his head, ignoring her.  
"Inspector Thatcher seemed obliging, arranging for Ben to go to Mr. Daniels' camp." Maggie edged into the subject she's been dying to hear about since Fraser and Meg had come stomping into the office earlier that day.  
"Inspector Thatcher seems to have changed since we last met in Chicago." Fraser began, knowing exactly what his sister was after.  
"Oh, how so?" Maggie watched her brother carefully. She knew from Ray Vecchio and her own Ray that he and the Inspector had a history.  
"In the past, Inspector Thatcher would have had a dim view of Ben's accompanying me on this assignment. Mr. Daniels mentioned that she also goes camping with the boys from the camp at least once during the summer, that seems uncharacteristic as well. After lunch this afternoon, she purposely took my lunch bill and paid the more costly of the two. When I tried to correct her mistake, she became upset." Fraser stopped eating, losing his taste for it. That woman could puzzle him like no one before or sense. Even Victoria had been easier to understand.  
"She is different than I remember her. Constable Hansen told me some things about Thatcher today that surprised me. He said that she's always helping the people of the community. Before we met with Mr. McConaughey, he also warned me that McConaughey could be 'abrasive' is the way he put it, and that he had tried to have Inspector Thatcher removed from command of the post. I don't believe Constable Hansen is the one behind the attempts on her life. He seemed to have a high regard for her." Maggie watched Fraser's reaction.  
"She hadn't told me anything to that effect. The Inspector did say that she'd seen ambush tactics like those used this morning during her assignment in Iraq. She wouldn't elaborate." Fraser leaned back against the straight back chair. As if it hadn't been a harrowing enough day.  
Maggie hated what crossed her mind but thought she should say it anyway. "Benton, do you think Inspector Thatcher is being completely honest with us? I tend to believe that there's more to this than she's willing to say."  
Fraser sighed, he'd thought the same thing. Things weren't as simple as they'd been in Chicago. Meg had been a career officer then as well, but her assignments had been straightforward, nothing covert about them. Fraser knew that if he were to solve the mystery, he'd have to know more about her time in the Middle East. He resolved to find out the next day.  
Two-thirty AM …  
"Thirty-two Down on the Robert McKenzie" began playing from Fraser's pants pocket as he lay sleeping soundly in his cot. The Mountie lay dreaming of being in a high speed pursuit, Ray Vecchio's Buick Riviera fish tailed as they turned a hard left and began accelerating. Slowly, Fraser came up out of the dream when Ray tried to turn the radio off and it wouldn't quit.  
Fumbling, Benton fished his cell phone out of his trousers and answered, wiping sleep from his blue eyes.  
"Hello?" He growled sleepily, his mind coming back on line enough to hope Ben was safe at the camp.  
"Fraser," Meg's voice sounded strained. "I'm sorry to call at this hour, I had to know that you were alright." She took a deep breath, trying not to sound completely insane at two something in the morning.  
"Is it Ben?" Maggie's voice sounded sluggish as she leaned her head into the room.  
"No, it isn't him." Ben held a hand over the mouth piece and whispered loudly.  
"Oh, okay." Maggie could have cared less who it was after that. She knew that if it had been Ray, her phone would have rung. Sleepily, she dragged herself back to her bed and promptly fell back to sleep.  
"Maggie and I are fine, Meg. What's going on?" Fraser closed his bedroom door so as not to disturb Maggie.  
"I'm sorry, Fraser, I shouldn't have called. I'll see you tomorrow at the post." He could hear her let out a jagged sigh.  
"Meg, stop, what's wrong?" He persisted, fully awake now and in his usual state of Meg induced confusion.  
"It's stupid, Fraser, really, never mind." From the extra huskiness of her voice Fraser suspected she'd been crying.  
"Whatever it is distressed you enough to call and check on Maggie and myself at two-thirty in the morning, tell me, please." Part of him thought that if she were going to disturb him at the butt crack of dawn, she was going to explain herself fully.  
"I had a nightmare, okay." She answered defensively.  
"I take it that I or Maggie one played a part in it?" Benton persisted, pulling his blanket over his feet.  
"Yes, I saw you and young Ben dying in the dessert from an IED explosion. All of the sudden I was back there again." Ben heard her sniff, her voice shaky. "I apologize for waking you and Constable Kowalski, tell her for me, will you?"  
"I will, do you want one of us to come by and keep you company?" Fraser offered, he knew he wasn't going to get back to sleep any time soon.  
"Thank you kindly, but no." She didn't sound very convincing. Benton didn't know if he should push it or not. They hadn't exactly left things between them settled.  
"I don't mind, Inspector." Fraser winced, knowing he should have called her 'Meg'.  
"I'm certain you don't, Fraser, but there's no need. I'm fine. Have a good morning, I mean night." She stumbled. He heard a muffled groan, meaning she'd covered the phone's mouth piece.  
"Good night, sweet dreams, Meg." Benton wished her, his voice a lower register that would definitely inspire better dreams for her.  
"You too, Benton." She responded half a second before he heard the dial tone.  
Shaking the cobwebs out of his head, Benton ended the call on his phone and put it back in his trousers pocket. He ran his fingers through his hair. It was too early to get up and he knew he wouldn't get back to sleep so he laid back down and stared out the window for a while.  
At Meg's …  
The Inspector hung the phone up as soon as she said his name. The way Benton had said 'sweet dreams', surprised her. She felt like a teenage girl for a moment, savoring the sound of his voice as it caressed the single syllable of her name. He could have said the alphabet and she would have weakened in the knees.  
Meg lay back in her big bed, remembering the sound of his voice until she fell asleep. It wasn't the first time she'd had that nightmare, but it was the first time Benton had been the star of the horror show. The nightmares had torn her apart for several months after returning home to Canada. One of her saving graces had been living in Spencer Falls, where the tallest building was two stories tall and not metal and steel monstrosities like the ones around the oil plant. Spencer Falls was as far from Iraq as humanly possible.  
For the rest of the night Meg dreamed of being back in the Chicago Consulate, Fraser and Turnbull waiting on her hand and foot. They were silly, comforting dreams. Just what the doctor ordered.  
***  
Author's Note: Definition IED n. Improvised Explosive Device


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Chapter 10  
At the Post …  
Fraser had the morning shift the next day. Aurora had been the first one awake and was raring to go. Benton had let her outside to take care of business while he fixed himself some breakfast and coffee. He was still puzzling over the Inspector's behavior when he heard Maggie shuffle into the kitchen and sit down at the table across from him. She would be in the post later, for a mid-shift.  
"Good morning, Benton, did you get back to sleep last night?" She poured herself a cup of coffee after he set down a mug for her. "Thank you." She wiped sleep out of her impossibly blue eyes.  
"Yes, eventually." He nibbled on a mackerel patty and sipped his black coffee.  
"Who was it calling? Did Turnbull forget the time difference?" Maggie speculated. It never ceased to amaze her at the half brained things the still junior Mountie did.  
"No, it was Inspector Thatcher, calling to check on us." Fraser braced for the question he knew crossed his sister's mind.  
"Checking on us?" Maggie sipped her coffee to hide a knowing smile. It didn't hide her dancing eyes.  
"Yes, it seems she had a severe nightmare. The Inspector must have panicked." Fraser stood up and set his mug in the kitchen sink.  
"Oh, yeah, because I call my subordinates every time I have a bad dream." Thought Maggie to herself. She shook her head at Benton's transparency.  
"I'll be in at noon, seems I've been given the same shifts as Hansen. He's exuberant about it, wants to hear all about my tracking skills." Maggie widened her eyes, smiling a bit sarcastically. She was glad he was eager to learn but he was zealous about it.  
"I'm certain he's a well intentioned young man." Benton assured her, grabbing his Stetson and twirling it before resting it on his head.  
"Yes, he means well." Maggie remembered her early days with the RCMP and how her superior officers must have shook their heads at her.  
"Take care, I'll see you at lunch time." Benton set out the front door, heading into Spencer Falls.  
The Post …  
Meg walked in with Wilder, who always arrived early. That was fine with the Inspector, she had a ton of paperwork to fill out after having a RCMP vehicle ambushed the day before. She was glad to see that Fraser hadn't arrived yet. That gave her time to establish herself in her office, out of sight. The other officers not yet off the night shift were still milling around the post, putting the finishing touches on reports and various duties. Meg greeted them with a smile, pretending she wasn't dreading the first time she laid eyes on Fraser. She felt like everyone would somehow know about the embarrassing, two am phone call when they saw them together.  
The Inspector sat down behind her desk, coffee mug in one hand and her reading glasses in the other. She kicked her heels off and settled in for a hopefully routine day. With her subordinate officers in the other room, Meg didn't hear Fraser walk quietly down the hall and stand in the doorway of her office. The morning sun behind her caught the highlights of her hair as she pushed her wire frame glass up on her nose.  
"Good morning, Inspector, I trust you're well." Meg almost spilled her coffee down the front of her blouse when she heard Fraser's voice ahead of her.  
"Heavens to Betsy, Constable Fraser," She puffed out her cheeks as she mopped up a puddle of coffee soaking into her desk blotter with Kleenexes.  
"I should have knocked, my apologies." Fraser offered her his handkerchief. Meg pursed her lips, looking up at him, refusing his offer.  
"I'm jumpy, that's all." She threw the wad of Kleenexes into the trash beside her desk and sat back. When she looked up Fraser was studying her, an expression of keen interest on his features. He knew she wore glasses, but she'd never let him see her in them before. They had a charming effect on her features, adding a bit of elegance.  
"Did I spill coffee on my jacket after all?" Meg slipped out of the light, pink jacket she wore over an ivory, cotton blouse and examined it.  
"No, Ma'am, I was noticing something else." Benton stood up straight, running his thumb nail across his brow as he glanced away.  
"Close the door, please, Fraser." Meg sighed, knowing she might as well get the whole nightmare conversation over with. Benton closed the old, oak door quietly then took his place standing before her desk.  
"Have a seat, please, I don't want to crane my neck." She took a deep breath. The scent of Irish Spring soap and leather polish pervaded the room. Did he have to smell so good?  
"I just wanted to speak to you about last night, I …" Before she could finish a knock at the door interrupted her. Meg looked at Fraser and shrugged. He stood and opened the door.  
"There's a call for Inspector Thatcher on line two, someone from the air field." Constable Wilder timidly put his head in the door to speak.  
"Thank you kindly, Constable Wilder." Meg waited until he had left before she picked up the phone. Fraser stood to leave the room but she motioned for him to remain.  
"Inspector Thatcher speaking." She answered neutrally, then listened for a moment. "Thank you kindly, I'll send someone immediately." Meg hung up, the energy around her charged with excitement.  
"We have another guest who's arrived. Do you mind driving to the airfield with Constable Wilder and picking him up?" Meg asked, her original conversation forgotten.  
Fraser stood up, his Stetson in his hands. He puzzled over the excitement in the Inspector's aura.  
"I'll collect Constable Wilder and set off." He shrugged, wishing they hadn't been interrupted.  
"I would go with you, but considering the circumstances, it may not be a good idea." Meg sighed, thinking about the ruined Jeep sitting in the garage behind her.  
"Ah, perhaps." Fraser agreed with the morbid statement.  
The Air Field …  
Ray Kowalski tried to take slow, deep breaths like Fraser had shown him long ago. The small plane had been battling a head wind the whole flight and the former detective wondered if the pilot may be intoxicated.  
"Hey, buddy, is there a john around here somewhere?" He asked as he dragged his suitcase off the twin engine Cessna. He felt as green as grass.  
"Yeah, in the hangar, first door to the left." The pilot answered as he hauled out the supplies in the back.  
"Thanks." Ray waved as he rolled his one bag across the cement toward the hangar, taking deep breaths of the clean air. He'd been in Ottawa the last three days and didn't want to see another air craft as long as he lived.  
The restroom in the hangar was covered in motor oil and grime. Ray thanked God that he didn't have to touch much to finish his business. He made his exit as soon as possible, wrinkling his nose as he left the door open. He knew he was a slouch about cleanliness but his bachelor pad had been immaculate compared to that bathroom. It made him miss Maggie and her orange scented air freshener stationed on the back of their commode.  
"Hey, Mister, there's someone her to get you." The pilot's voice came from somewhere near the tail section of the small, white plane. Ray waved and picked up his pace. When he saw a red serge clad figure standing beside a Jeep, he waved, wishing it was Maggie instead of her brother.  
"Ray, I wasn't expecting you, how are you?" Fraser shook his hand, slapping him heartily on the back. The still rail thin American reeled under the blow.  
"Doin' fine, Fraser, you?" Ray grinned, flipping the collar of his jacket up to block the wind.  
"Are you Constable Benton Fraser?" The pilot called. The Mountie turned and walked toward him.  
"Yes, I'm Constable Fraser." Diefenbaker whined when he heard his human's voice. He hadn't liked the flight any better than Ray, at least he'd been sedated for the most part. Dief didn't know how Ray had survived the ride.  
"Hello, old friend." Fraser signed the delivery paperwork and hauled the half wolf out onto the cement at the rear of the plane. Dief was out in two seconds and trotting happily around, sniffing Fraser. He smelled Aurora. The half wolf looked up at his human with his question.  
"She's fine, Dief, Aurora's with Maggie." Benton scratched his oldest friend's neck before walking back to the Jeep.  
"Two friends, one trip. Now I understand Inspector Thatcher's excitement." Fraser helped Ray load his suitcase into the rear of the vehicle, Diefenbaker jumping in, happily.  
"The Dragon, uh, I mean, Thatcher, she's here?" Ray saw the frown spread over the other, younger Mountie's face.  
"Yes, she's been in Spencer Falls for the last eight years." Fraser buckled his seat belt and tossed his hat on the back seat with Hansen's.  
"Let me introduce Ray Kowalski, Constable Kowalski's husband and a good friend of mine from Chicago." Fraser hitched a thumb to the back seat.  
"I'm Constable Hansen, pleased to meet you." Hansen waved, putting both hands back on the wheel to drive.  
"Just call me Ray." The former detective waved back.  
"So, Fraser, where are you and Maggie stayin'?" Ray wondered aloud.  
"Inspector Thatcher made arrangements with a seasonal hunter for us to use his cabin while he's gone. It's quite snug." Ray rolled his eyes. He knew Fraser's definition of 'snug' did not include a television or gaming console.  
"You'll be glad to know, the cabin does have an excellent lavatory." Fraser turned slightly to inform him. Ray shrugged, no X box, but it did have a flushing toilet and hot water. He could live with that.  
Ray walked through the door to the post's main room and stopped short. Inspector Thatcher sat behind the first desk to the right, prescription eye glasses perched on her nose as she studied a flat computer screen. She stood up and pulled her glasses off.  
"Mr. Kowalski, hello." She shook his hand. Ray noticed the scratches and bruises on Meg's face when he neared the desk. Diefenbaker came over to sniff the vaguely familiar woman. He let her scratch between his ears gently.  
"Inspector Thatcher, ah, hello." Ray was a bit thrown by her frost-less tone of voice.  
"Maggie's shift starts at noon, I imagine she'll be here early." Meg ushered Ray and Fraser into her office, her fingers still tangled in Dief's fur.  
The wolf smelled the scent of worry and dread on her. He'd also caught a whiff of it on Fraser. It worried the half wolf. In the city, the only worry he'd smelled on Fraser had been because of the boy. The scent disappeared as soon as Fraser and the boy were back together. This as different.  
"Yeah, she doesn't know I was planning on joining her for a few days." Ray smiled, picturing the expression on his bride's face when she saw him.  
"Would you like some coffee, Mr. Kowalski?" Meg asked cordially.   
Ray didn't sense anything less than genuine welcome from her. "Yea, thanks, I kinda had a rough ride over here. Them Cessna planes are barely bigger than a soup can with wings." Ray sat down in the chair opposite the desk Meg had gotten up from.  
"Yes, Ben had trouble flying as well." Fraser wondered about his son, hoping that he was having a good time at Camp Cumberbatch.  
"Where is my nephew?" Ray grinned. He liked the kid. They got along well, playing video games when they visited and sports. Ben had asked what Ray thought about a lot of things; girls especially. Talking the birds and the bees with his dad wasn't something that Ben looked forward to. He figured Ray would give it to him short, sweet and to the point as well as honest. Ray didn't blame the kid, he'd seen Fraser deliver babies without blinking an eye, but bluster when Frannie pinned him on something.  
"The Inspector arranged for him to go to Camp Cumberbatch while I'm on temporary assignment." Fraser explained. "He'll most likely call me tonight." Meg and Ray watched Fraser's chest swell with pride. They were glad for him.  
TAP, TAP, TAP Constable Wilder poked his head into the office. "Pardon the interruption, Sir, but the forensics truck from HQ is here for the Jeep." Meg straightened in her chair, wishing she didn't have to deal with this just now.  
"Thank you kindly, Constable Wilder, I'll go talk to them." She pasted her mask on firmly, despite the scratches and cuts from her last car crash.  
"Would you like to see the Jeep, Ray, I believe you'll find this interesting." Meg's words had a double meaning. The former detective shrugged and pushed himself out of the chair. The three walked out to the lot behind the post. Wilder had already made it out and was chatting with the officer sent to collect the Jeep.  
"Hello, Inspector Thatcher, I'm Carl Compton." The slight built officer shook hands briefly. From the weakness of his grip, Meg guessed he was a pencil whipper for the most part.  
"What happened here?" Ray asked, walking around the red, Jeep Liberty. All the windows were blown out and the front tires were gone. The rear tires were flat from running over the homemade spike strip. Meg shivered when she looked at the vehicle. She began to breath rapidly, her face turning pale. When Compton slammed his truck door loudly Meg hit the gravel, face first, her hands covering her head.  
"No, don't, please, stop." She cried out, drawing herself into the fetal position on the gravel. Compton's eyes nearly bugged out of his head.  
"Inspector Thatcher, are you alright?" Fraser knelt down, concerned. Diefenbaker got down on his belly and nudged her with his wet nose. Meg was crying and begging an unknown attacker to stop shooting. Dief belly crawled closer to her and began wiggling against her, his soft whine increasing as he licked her hands. Ray and Fraser exchanged puzzled glances. All Compton could do was stare at the woman on the ground.  
Still crying and breathing heavily, Meg began to calm down. Dief persisted in his licking until she seemed to be more herself again.  
"Inspector, let me help you." Fraser hoisted her to her feet and they walked back to the post. Once inside, Fraser set her down in her chair at her desk. She was sobbing and talking but he couldn't make sense of it. The language wasn't English, French, German or any Inuit dialect he'd ever heard. He could only assume it was Middle Eastern in origin. Ray found the rest room and wet a wad of paper towels in cold water. He handed them to Fraser who was kneeling in front of her, talking to her in his soothing voice.  
"Looks like she's got that, uh, Post Trauma Stress thingy. I've seen cops who've been shot go berserk the next time they have to go out on a call." Ray leaned on Meg's desk, his arms crossed, one thumb running up and down his jaw line as he studied the weeping woman.  
"I believe you mean Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The Inspector and I were ambushed yesterday morning as we returned from taking Ben to Camp Cumberbatch." Fraser gave him the gist of the events as he bathed Meg's face using the cold paper towels. What he didn't say was that he didn't believe this episode was caused by their troubles the day before. Something else was behind it.  
"I want to go home." Meg finally said in clear English. She looked at Fraser, but he wasn't certain that she actually saw him.  
"Alright, do you think you can tell me how to get there?" Fraser's brow knit in concern. He'd seen other cases of PTSD but none this severe. He was shaken by the sight of his former boss so vulnerable. Meg Thatcher was no shrinking violet by nature, that much he knew as well as he knew his own name.  
"I'm in Spencer Falls, aren't I?" She took a shuttering breath.  
"Yes, Inspector, you are. Do you think you can direct me to your house now?" The Mountie asked again, a hand on either side of her face to direct her attention to him. Meg nodded, her eyes still a little vacant.  
"I live in an apartment above the old general store." Fraser smiled, feeling relieved that she was coming back to herself.  
"Ray, will you tell Constable Wilder that I'm escorting the Inspector home, she's under the weather?" Fraser stood up and began collecting Meg's jacket and her purse.  
"Yea, sure, Fraser." Ray left the office. Seeing Meg crying like a little girl was unnerving, even for him. Ray was used to the Ice Queen, the cool, professional, kinda crabby woman he'd met almost fourteen years before. It did rather fit in with the information he'd been in Ottawa to find.  
By the time Ray had told Wilder where Meg was going, Fraser had her gathered up, ready to walk the single block to her apartment.  
"Need some company, buddy?" Ray offered, knowing that weeping women weren't the Mountie's forte.  
"No, thank you, Ray, I believe she'll feel more comfortable without an audience. Will you tell Maggie where I am?" Fraser spoke low. Meg was still a little weepy as she laid one hand on Fraser's shoulder to steady herself.  
"Okay, call me if ya need anything." Ray shrugged. The thought of getting to talk to Maggie was a much brighter thought than babysitting the Ice Queen any day.  
***


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Chapter 11  
Meg's Apartment …  
The apartment over the old general store had been home to the last four officers in charge of the Spencer Falls Post. There weren't many places in the rural area to rent near the post. Meg had called the old place home since she'd arrived. She'd cleaned and scrubbed, painted and repaired the place for a month after taking over the lease.  
Enlargements of landscape photographs hung on the stair well walls leading up to her front door. The walls were a warm, sand color with Pacific blue and white accents. A print of Impressionist painter, Mary Cassatt's painting hung over the fireplace off to the left of the top stairs. Hints of muted yellow and purple gave the place a warm, welcoming air. Fraser was surprised that Meg liked this much color. He had always pegged her for more of a minimalist person.  
"My head is pounding, will you get the Aspirin from the bathroom medicine cabinet for me, please, Fraser?" Meg asked, holding her throbbing head as she settled onto a hunter green couch in the center of the room.  
The Mountie found the restroom, also painted a brilliant blue with white trim. Inside the white, enamel medicine chest he found a large bottle of Aspirin. He didn't intend to, but Fraser also saw a prescription for a sleep aid. The date on the prescription was recent. A second bottle had a much older date on it, almost nine years older. The new bottle was mostly full, but it concerned him just the same.  
"Here you are, I'll get a glass of water." Returning to the living area, Fraser found Meg lying on the couch, her eyes closed.  
"Thank you, Fraser." Meg felt humiliated that she'd had one of her flashbacks in front of Fraser and Ray Kowalski. She hadn't had one in so long, she'd forgotten the churning, terrified feeling of sheer panic rocking her to the core. Walking through the spacious living room, into an open, eat-in kitchen, he found a glass in the most logical place, the cabinet beside the sink.  
"Have you had one of these flashbacks before, Meg?" Fraser used her given name, much to her delight.  
"Yes, they started after someone ran my car off the road." Meg made as little out of it as possible. It was one can of worms she didn't intend to crack open.   
Fraser seemed satisfied with her answer. He looked around her apartment, his eyes scanning the walls. The place wasn't much but it was her sanctuary. A picture of a yellow, long haired cat peering intently into the camera lens sat on the fireplace mantel beside one of a very young Meg and a couple he could only assume were her parents in front of a small, white house.  
"That was taken the day I graduated from the RCMP Academy. Those are my, well, were my parents." Meg sighed, speaking softly.  
"I have a similar one of my father and myself." Fraser picked up the framed photo. He noticed the strong resemblance between Meg and her mother.  
"My father was less than enthused about my decision but he was proud of me. Mom cried. She eventually accepted it." Meg smiled, remembering her parents' reaction to her announcement. They didn't think she would be accepted, but she was.  
"My grandparents wanted me to further my education. Dad tried, initially, to dissuade me from joining the RCMP but it seemed only natural that I follow in his footsteps." Fraser set the photo back on the mantel and turned, his hands behind his back.  
"Has Ben expressed any interest in following in the Fraser family footsteps?" Meg yawned, exhausted, her adrenaline rush wearing out.  
"No, not yet, I believe he wants to try out for a professional hockey team just now." Benton smiled, thinking of the autographed sports poster on his son's wall. He had once had the same notion as a boy.  
Meg pulled a periwinkle chenille throw off the back of the couch and spread it over herself. Fraser gently took her shoes off and placed them under the coffee table beside the couch. He pulled the throw down on her feet and perched on the couch for a moment. Meg looked at him in the dim light of a single lamp on the coffee table at her head. She blinked a few times, a yawn welling up.  
"Will you be alright here alone?" Fraser asked, his tone concerned.  
"Sit with me a moment, Fraser, until I nod off?" He saw a weary smile pull at her cherry lips. He simply nodded and settled himself on the floor beside her. The Mountie leaned against the couch, his Stetson on his knee.  
"I've put you through the wringers, haven't I?" Meg almost whispered, her brown eyes searching his face, trying to memorize each detail, each line and plane.  
"No need to bring anything up, Meg." He shrugged her off. They'd argued, apologized and thanked each other, all over the last three days. Gently, Meg tucked a stray curl behind Benton's ear as he sat looking at the empty fireplace. He felt the soft caress and closed his eyes, enjoying the simple action.  
"If I had known the things I know now back in Chicago, I would have made different choices, better ones. It took my CSIS stint in Iraq to learn them though." Reluctantly, Meg pulled her hand back beneath the throw.  
" 'Weep no more lady, weep no more. Thy sorrow is in vain, for violets plucked, the sweetest showers, will ne'er make grow again.' " I believe Henry Arthur Jones said in his book, Silver King." Benton spoke into the darkness around them, is gaze a universe away in a time long past.  
"That was beautiful, Fraser." Meg wiped the grit out of the corners of her eyes from her make-up.  
"It was a favorite quote of my grandmother's." Fraser smiled wistfully, his gaze returning to Meg's face. She was as beautiful as he'd ever seen her. The quiet between them was comfortable.  
Diefenbaker whining at the front door brought the Mountie back to the present. The wolf was begging him to be let out.  
"I should go. Do you need anything before I leave?" Fraser got to his knees, facing Meg. She smiled up at him, her hand coming out from beneath the throw. He gently laid his larger, rougher hand in hers for a moment. Meg squeezed his hand.  
"Be careful, Fraser. This attacker has no qualms about killing you to get to me. You have someone else to think about now." Meg reminded him. She knew that if it came between Ben's life and hers, that Fraser would chose Ben. That was the way it should be to her way of thinking.  
"Call me if you need me, Meg." Gently, Fraser leaned over and pressed a light kiss against her cheek.  
"I will, Benton." She whispered as he pulled away, her eyes closed and the most serene smile on her features. Long, dark lashes laid against her cheeks.  
Quietly, Fraser left the apartment, locking the door behind him. Dief was eager to see the out doors. He'd been cooped up too long in the air plane.  
Fraser walked back to the post, a lot on his mind. The change in Meg's behavior puzzled him, as well as the old sleep aid prescription. He hadn't solved the mystery of what happened to his former boss lady while she'd been in Iraq.  
Dief trotted ahead of the Mountie as he slowly walked up the street. There were so many new smells for the old wolf to explore. It had been ages since he'd taken in a lung full of air that didn't contain half car exhaust.  
"She's hiding something, isn't she?" Fraser spoke as he stood outside the post, letting Dief sniff around for a while. The old wolf looked up at him, blinking as if he had the answer, if only Fraser were smart enough to read his mind. Fraser sighed, his thumb toying with his belt buckle.  
"Benny, ya comin' in or not?" Ray's voice roused him out of his thoughts.  
"Yes, Ray, I'm coming." Fraser moved toward the door, but Dief cut line. The Mountie chided him.  
"Look who brought us lunch?" Ray grinned as he handed Fraser a sandwich. Dief whined for a slice of honey roasted ham. Maggie slipped him a paper thin slice as he came around the desk to her. Even saying hello to Aurora took a back seat to the scent of juicy ham.  
"Hello, Benton." Maggie greeted him, pouring a coffee cup of iced tea for him. "Ray called, so I decided to come in early."  
"That's my Mountie girl." Ray winked at her. Maggie rolled her eyes and smiled, flattered at the affectionate flirtation.  
"Ray said that the Inspector was ill, how is she feeling?" Maggie asked, concern showing in her vivid, blue eyes.  
"The forensics technician slammed his vehicle door, it must have triggered a flashback to our ambush yesterday morning." Fraser glossed over his thoughts on the real cause of her flashback. He didn't want to discuss it at the post with so many ears to hear.  
"Has there been any word on the equipment theft at McConaughey Mining?" Fraser asked, changing the subject.  
"McConaughey, like, er, Ambrose McConaughey?" Ray asked, suddenly interested in the case.  
"Yes, I spoke with him yesterday. Someone stole expensive muffler converters off five of his trucks." Maggie answered. Constable Hansen edged nearer the conversation.  
"I've heard of him in my line of work, nothin' good." Ray shook his head. Maggie nudged him, giving him a warning glare. The former detective nodded, looking around the main room at the four other RCMP officers working on various tasks.  
"I haven't heard anything." Maggie shrugged, nibbling on her sandwich.  
"I didn't mean to eavesdrop, Sirs, but Mr. McConaughey's theft report is awfully coincidentally timed with the ambush on Constable Fraser and the Inspector's Jeep yesterday." Constable Hansen added in a conspiratorial tone.  
"I agree." Fraser said, his gaze on the vault housing the surveillance footage. There was something on it he hadn't seen, despite four hours of watching it. The ambush and the theft were connected, Fraser just didn't know how-yet.  
"Constable Hansen, have you noticed a marked difference in the Inspector's behavior lately?" Maggie asked, her mind traveling parallel to her brother's.  
"Yes, the Inspector has taken more sick leave than before and she seems rather moody on occasion." When Ray snorted he got two reprimanding glares and one bumfuzzled expression for his outburst.  
"Sorry." He hid behind his coffee cup of tea.  
"When did this start?" Fraser picked up Maggie's tack.  
"Approximately three months ago." Hansen was beginning to feel like he was being pumped for information.  
"Does the Inspector ever talk about her last posting, er, assignment or whatever?" Ray contributed. He'd read the Inspector's file, there were gaps he couldn't account for.  
"Only very rarely, if ever." Hansen frowned, his young features downcast as he tried to fit the pieces together for himself. There was definitely something that the other Mounties weren't telling him. He was reluctant to inquire, torn between wanting to help and delving into something that was none of his business. Sometimes propriety stank to high heaven.  
"What is the last posting you've heard her speak of, Constable Hansen?" Fraser elaborated, catching Ray's train of thought. It was a regular detective's brain trust. Hansen felt honored to be standing amongst them, knowing he could learn more from the three of them than anywhere else in the world.  
"Ah, the Chicago Consulate I believe." The two Mounties and the former detective all looked from one to the others. They all knew when Meg had left the consulate and when she'd been assigned to Spencer Falls. There was a significant gap between the two.  
"Thank you kindly, Constable Hansen." Maggie smiled at the younger officer, praying he wouldn't start asking a bunch of questions. He took a deep breath and squared himself before speaking.  
"I have faith that you're acting in the Inspector's best interest. I don't need to know the particulars, I'd just like to say, if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. Inspector Thatcher has been a boon to the community of Spencer Falls. I wish I were half the officer she is." The young man nodded and excused himself.  
Ray shook his head, his brows raised. "Is that Turnbull's younger, more coordinated brother?" He said in a whisper. The joke flew over the Mounties' heads. It was so quiet that Ray heard crickets outside.  
"The first order of business is to find out about the gap in the Inspector's career. We need to have more background on Ambrose McConaughey as well." Fraser outlined the plan briefly.  
"I'll take McConaughey, you two can have the Mountie stuff." Ray shook his hands, separating the assignments. Maggie and Fraser looked at each other.  
"Ray, what exactly are you doing here in Spencer Falls?" Fraser asked, confused.  
"Oh, she didn't tell you?" Both Mounties shook their heads. "Yeah, the Inspector hired my company to investigate. I came down on her dime." The blonde detective rubbed his fingers together and grinned like a Vegas high roller.  
"Inspector Thatcher must be terrified of something." Fraser gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw working briefly. If only she had simply asked him, he would have made time to help her. All the cloak and dagger tactics only served to confuse the issue. He wondered why she felt the need to hide her troubles from him.  
"After all this time, after all she's seen of my character, doesn't she trust me?" Fraser wondered silently. He remembered she'd spoken of making different choices and wondered if he shouldn't have made a few choices differently himself.  
***


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Chapter 12  
Iraq 2000 ….   
Dust boiled up in the small village a few miles outside the city. Like most villages in the region, most of it's residents were involved in oil mining. Children played in gangs all along the main drag into the village. A gaggle of boys played a heated soccer game on the outskirts. Girls helped their mothers with various chores, most of them covered head to toe in the traditional garb of their Muslim faith. All that could be seen were their keen, dark eyes and brows. The first time Meg had put on one of the voluminous garments, she was surprised how well she blended in. Her face soon tanned and it was difficult to recognize herself in the mirror beneath a dark veil. She felt lost in the garb, like she'd lost her identity. Meg reminded herself that it was part of her assignment. It made her miss the red serge of her RCMP dress uniform.  
The misplaced Canadian ducked down an alley way and knocked on a door barely high enough to admit her. A few moments later a young girl opened the door, her long, dark hair flowing down her back as she looked up at Meg's face. Meg winked, their signal.  
"Hello, Hana, is your mother home?" Meg knelt down and spoke to the five year old girl. Hana moved aside and let Meg enter. It had been nearly two years and the girl had yet to speak in Meg's presence. The house was small, barely bigger than the Inspector's office in Chicago had been. Some days she longed to hear one of Constable Turnbull's long winded, muddled explanations.  
"Miss Meg, come in, sit down." Amina said as she stirred something in a pot over the fire. Meg moved into the small space, taking a three legged stool near Amina. Quickly, she pulled her veil off to reveal her face. The other woman always stared at her for a moment when she saw her face. It was a foreign concept that in other countries women were not required to cover their faces and much of their bodies.  
"Did Syed get the information for me to pass on?" Meg tried not to wrinkle her nose at the smell of broiled goat and spices that Amina cooked nearly every day for her family.  
"Yes, my brother gave me this to give to you." Amina stopped stirring the pot and pulled a canister of film in a plastic bag from inside a large jug of lamp oil. Meg took it and slipped it into a pocket inside her clothes. She thought to herself how much Fraser would have liked to try the broiled goat and spices. She'd heard of him eating some pretty gamey things. With a deep breath, Meg pushed him from her mind.  
"Be careful, Miss Meg, if they catch you with that they will kill us all." Amina warned her Canadian friend. Meg had helped her with her English while Amina had taught her Arabic.  
"I will, Amina, you be careful as well." Meg stood up, adjusting her veil.  
"I scored the winning goal." A little boy of about nine came rushing into the small house, his eyes wide and bright with victory.  
"That's good, Omar. Wash up for dinner please." Amina ruffled her eldest son's hair. The boy stopped when he saw Meg. His eyes narrowed and he lifted his chin defiantly.  
"What are you doing here?" The boy said in perfect English. Meg took a deep breath and tried not to scold him, as she would have done back home. Since the first time they'd met, she and Omar had had a keen dislike for each other.  
"Wishing your mother and sister a good day, that's all." Meg schooled her features, glad for once that he couldn't see the lower half of her face as she gritted her teeth. The boy simply stared at her, he could feel his mother's glare at the back of his head as he stood with his walnut sized fists on his hips. Meg ignored him and turned to leave.  
The Canadian walked the five miles back to her desk in the main mining office. Most of the time she played secretary to the safety inspector. It was a demeaning job, especially considering that she'd had Fraser and Turnbull for her subordinates in Chicago. It hadn't taken her long to realize that she was getting a taste of her own medicine, and what a bitter bite.  
"Thatcher, have you arranged for my box at the race track for this weekend?" Desmond Jones' voice came over the intercom as Meg seated herself behind her desk.  
"Yes, Mr. Jones. I finalized that three days ago." She sighed as she worked on an invoice he should have finished the previous day. Meg could have screamed some days at the man's incompetence. Being stationed in Iraq with the CSIS had initially been her idea of a plum job. Finally, she'd been recognized for her ability, her intelligence and determination. She'd felt like she could conquer the bureaucratic mountain.  
Working at the oil company, she spent her days surrounded by men; men who had very rigid ideas of a woman's place in the world. That took more adjusting to than Meg had anticipated. She longed to finish her assignment and go back home.  
"Make certain that I have a gift for the prince, make it a good one." Jones buzzed the intercom again. Meg rolled her eyes, gritting her teeth.  
"Yes, Mr. Jones." She'd bought his gift for the prince two weeks before. Meg began to mumble to herself.  
Once at home, Meg immediately showered and fixed herself a pot of camomile tea. The RCMP officer had to wash off her job and her day. An encounter with Omar always left her feeling grouchy. The only thing that helped was perfect silence for twenty minutes and chocolate before bed. Until her assignment in Iraq, Meg had limited her chocolate intake, but in a country where the women practically wore tents, even a woman who could stand to lose ten pounds was eye catching in a business suit. Without Fraser around, there wasn't much reason to keep her svelte figure anyway.  
A heavy knock on the door interrupted Meg's twenty minutes of perfect silence. Sighing, she got up to answer. Two men in ragged clothing took hold of her, one on each arm. Meg used her training, trying to free herself of their grasp.  
"Miss Meg, don't fight them." Omar's shrill voice stopped her immediately. Behind them, in the hallway beyond her apartment door, stood a man holding Hana by the arm, his free hand holding a handgun to her head. The wide eyed girl had been crying. Meg went limp. She knew that if she fought them Hana would suffer.  
Meg let the men drag her and the children down the stairs to a covered, military truck. More, rough looking men were waiting inside the truck, holding Amina and Syed at gunpoint. Looking back at her apartment windows, she saw figures moving back and forth in front of the windows. They were searching her house for the film she'd been couriering for the last nineteen months. In just a few months the assignment would have been over and Amina, her brother and children would have been given safe passage to Canada for their help.  
The former RCMP officer knew that there was little chance she'd make it out of this predicament alive. By the time her back up knew she was missing, the terrorists would have killed her and disposed of the body. A million things ran through her mind. She thought about never having heard Hana speak. Meg thought about never seeing snow again or getting to kiss Fraser at least once more before dying. Mostly she thought about all the missed opportunities she'd let slip through her fingers.  
"I should have told Fraser I love him." Meg thought as she fought tears in the darkness surrounding her.  
Meg, Amina, Syed and the children were taken into the mountains and held in a camp. The children were staked out like livestock. Meg and Amina shared a metal cage while Syed was chained to a stake. None of them were fed enough or given much to drink.  
The first night, Meg was taken into the largest of the terrorists' tents. Bound and gagged, she was photographed with a current newspaper and questioned. They wanted to know the kind of information she had sent out of the country, where it had been sent and who was aiding her besides Syed and Amina. Every time they heard an answer they didn't like, one of the interrogators struck her.  
They questioned her for twelve hours, never letting her rest. The Mountie didn't let them break her. She knew there was more to come, more that she didn't want to imagine. Her training came to mind with every blow. Meg held onto the image of Fraser the last time she'd seen him. Her mind let her relive their stolen kiss on the top of a runaway train. She held onto her time at the consulate, reliving every moment, even the times she'd wanted to put in a transfer request and head back to Ottawa.  
The second day, the terrorists changed tactics. They brought in Syed. He had already been beaten into submission. He had given them Meg's address and name before they came for her. Meg shook her head sympathetically when he asked for her forgiveness in Arabic. None of it mattered now. Meg had accepted that. She watched in horror as they brought in Hana and Omar. One of the terrorists forced Syed to bend over and bared his neck. While the children watched, Syed was beheaded. His blood spattered across Omar's face, he was so close. Meg went numb inside. She wasn't about to let Syed's death be in vain. They would never get the information they sought out of her.  
Years later, Meg would wake up, Omar's eyes boring into her as his uncle's blood dripped off his chin, onto his clothes. Meg woke up screaming often. She never remembered all the things the terrorists did to her, thankfully, but she remembered with unerring clarity the things Amina's family endured for her sake. She never forgot Omar's vow to avenge his uncle's death either.  
On the tenth day, after the terrorists had finished with Meg, after Amina and Hana had both been killed to motivate her to talk, she saw her opportunity to escape. The rope binding her hands and feet had been cutting into her flesh. She was certain that there would be permanent nerve damage. Sitting in her cage, she concocted enough of a story to get them to let her out to talk to the one calling the shots. Somehow, she found it in herself to draw him close to her. She strangled him until she felt his windpipe collapse. Meg cut her ropes, stripped the terrorist and put his clothing on over her clothes. The voluminous, dingy garment hid her well enough to slip past the sentry and into the darkness beyond the tent. She carefully made her way to where Omar had been staked. The boy refused to move at first. Meg had to physically make him follow her into the mountains.  
She eventually stole a farmer's truck and drove into a nearby village, across the border into Jordan. She had been beaten, raped, shot and tortured. They had not broken her. Omar was sent to an orphanage run by missionaries.  
The stress of what had happened sent Meg into a nervous break down. She was sent to a first class mental hospital where her physical wounds were treated and healed for the most part. Her psychological wounds took far longer to knit together. After eighteen months of physical rehabilitation paired with therapy, she was released. Mercifully, she spent September 11, 2001 in the hospital. Medication and close supervision got her through. The doctors worried that her lack of personal connections in the outside world would hinder her progress. Thinking of Fraser still helped her through her days spent talking about her feelings, something Meg had never been comfortable with.  
The CSIS gave Meg their most prestigious commendation. It was also classified. They suggested she take early, medical retirement and go back to the civilian world. Pissed as hell, Meg Thatcher did take time off, the better part of two years. In that time she rebuilt herself and re-qualified for the RCMP, taking her old rank. The RCMP review board were well aware of her classified assignment as well as her previous record with them. Her physical scores were excellent, higher than any officer in her age bracket. Her mental acuity hadn't slipped either.  
After a refresher coarse at the Academy, Meg re-joined the RCMP and chose Spencer Falls as her next assignment. The RCMP breathed a sigh of relief that she had chosen such a sleepy, little hamlet to manage.  
***  
Author's Note: This is probably my weakest chapter. I can't bring myself to write the atrocities it would take to cause the fear Meg felt.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Chapter 13  
After work …  
Fraser walked down the street from the post to the old general store. Diefenbaker had decided to stay with Aurora at the post. The Mountie hadn't said much the entire afternoon. Maggie and Ray had exchanged questioning glances from time to time but they knew that Benton would sort it out in his own way and in his own time.  
"Hello, Meg?" Fraser tapped on the door at the top of the stairs that barred her apartment from the stairs.  
"Just a moment." He heard her call out. A few moments later she opened the door. He noted that she had washed off her make-up and changed into a pair of loose jeans and an RCMP t-shirt.  
"Fraser, come in, I wasn't expecting anyone." Meg stood aside for him to enter. He immediately smelled something delicious baking in the oven. His stomach spoke before he could.  
"Oh my, pardon me." He took his Stetson off, wondering where to put it. Meg smiled up at him, shaking her head at his stiff manners.  
"I was just getting ready to sit down to chicken and rice with homemade, buttermilk biscuits. There's plenty." She took his Stetson and laid it on the nearest coffee table.  
"Yes, thank you." Fraser seemed much more ill at ease in her apartment this time.  
"Have a seat, I'll check the biscuits." Meg shrugged, only mildly curious at his nervousness.  
Fraser sat down at the kitchen table set for one person. The small, round table had four chairs but only two sat around it. Two others served as pedestals for potted ferns near the window. Fraser took the seat that seemed the least used.  
"Were they asking about me at the post? I imagine Constable Hansen was beside himself." Meg's voice pulled Fraser's attention away from her apartment's décor. He stood up, crossing the few steps to the stove where Meg stirred a kettle filled with cooked, white rice, pulled chicken and condensed mushroom soup. The concoction bubbled.  
"Yes, Constable Hansen seemed quite concerned for you." Fraser toyed with one of the buttons on his tunic.  
"The biscuits are done, will you lift them out of the oven for me, please?" Meg scooted aside and handed Fraser a red oven mitt. Quickly, he lifted the heavy, cast aluminum bread pan out of the four hundred degree oven. Meg directed him to a plate in the cabinet beside the stove. He found a fork in the dish drainer and took up the biscuits. The cat's head biscuits were done to perfection and begging for either jelly or butter; both if you weren't on a diet.  
"It's been ages since I've cooked for anyone. I don't remember the last time." Meg began dishing the chicken onto plates, snagging a biscuit for each plate.  
"Ben would love to try this, you'll have to write the recipe out for me, if you wouldn't mind." Fraser smiled down at her. Meg's domestic side had surprised him. He hadn't thought her incapable, just uninterested.  
The pair sat down at the table. Meg poured them each a glass of apple juice, the most interesting thing in her refrigerator besides old orange juice and a quart of milk. She had quickly brought out another place setting for her company. Neither of them spoke for a while, too busy eating.  
"This is wonderful, Meg." Fraser sipped his apple juice, seeing her with new eyes. "I came up to check on you. I didn't expect this."  
"After my assignment with the CSIS, I had a lot of time on my hands. I took a cooking class to pass the time." She shrugged. Growing up, she'd learned the basics but beyond fudge brownies, she hadn't been interested in cooking. Meg had never planned on marrying, why learn how to cook?  
Fraser saw his opening but dreaded bringing up the past with Meg. "That is another reason I came to see you this evening," He stopped himself from calling her 'Sir'. "From what Maggie, Ray and I can deduce, there's a considerably large gap in your service record between the time you transferred to the CSIS and when you took the Spencer Falls Post." The Mountie sat back, his appetite gone. He smoothed his brow with his thumb nail. Delving into Meg's past was as uncomfortable to him as it was to her. He wanted her to trust him, to confide in him about it. That's what friends did.  
Meg swallowed her rice and washed it down with apple juice, trying not to choke. She was angry. How could he ask something like that? Those years had nothing to do with the case at hand. The part of her that knew he was asking to help her was silenced.  
"It's none of your business, Fraser." Meg snapped. "Leave it alone." She stood up from the table and walked to the sink.  
"You know I can't do that. When you heard the door of the tow truck slam this morning, you had a flashback. It had nothing to do with the ambush earlier. You were speaking in Arabic. Whatever the flashback was about, it stems from your time in Iraq." Fraser leaned against counter top, studying her. Meg's hands shook as she held her dinner plate. Her dark eyes flashed up at him.  
"Did I ask you about what happened between you and Victoria Metcalf, how your son came to be?" Meg's voice rose with each word. Benton's expression changed to one she couldn't read. He looked out the window above the sink.  
"No, I haven't." Meg threw the plate into the stainless steel sink, breaking it, her flat ware flying in opposite directions. She turned and walked away, not caring to see the result of her anger on him.  
"Why can't my past be left in the past? Why do I have to relieve that hell?" She thought, sitting down on the couch, her face in her hands. Meg couldn't stand the thoughts of Fraser knowing anything about her time in the mental hospital. She didn't want him knowing the things she'd done to survive and escape the terrorists.  
"He could never look at me again the way he did this afternoon." Meg thought to herself as she tried to control her breathing.  
"Ben stole a hunter's wallet and his hunting knife. He was living in a children's home in Alaska, stealing from cars in a parking lot for the money to come to Chicago to find me. He had an old photograph of me and a letter from his mother, from prison. Victoria left Chicago carrying my child. I missed the first thirteen years of his life. Maggie caught him stealing. He showed her the photo Victoria had sent him. She brought Ben to meet me. Three days later Ben was kidnapped from the ice rink and held in exchange for the money a bank owner in Alaska thought Victoria had hidden when I first caught her in Fortitude Pass." Fraser's voice cracked slightly at the end. Fortitude Pass had changed his life in more ways than he could ever realize. He stared into the dim light of the living room. Meg could only imagine how he felt. She let the tears that had been welling up in her brown eyes fall freely.  
"Fraser, I don't want to tell you about my time in Iraq. I can't bear the way you'll look at me if I do." Meg's breath shuddered as she stifled a sob. "You can't know what happened over there. I can't lose you. I can't have you feeling sorry for me." Meg stood up and walked into her bedroom, sobs tearing at her body.  
"Meg, stop." Benton followed her down the hallway, past the bathroom, into her bedroom at the end of the hallway. She tried to close the door but he stuck his booted foot in before she could.  
"You won't lose me, Meg, you know that. This won't go away. I won't go away." He pushed the door back.  
"Do you want to hear every gory detail about how I was beaten to a pulp, my hands and feet tied while I was repeatedly violated? Do you want to hear how I strangled a man until I felt his windpipe crush under the pressure of my bare hands? Or would you rather hear about what they made me watch, how they forced me to watch, as they tortured a five year old girl, trying to extract information from me about who I was sending photographs of weapons depots, uranium processing plants, and military secrets to?" Meg pushed her index finger into Benton's chest. She was blind with rage, but not at him. Her fingers balled into fists and began pounding against his chest. Benton held her wrists, backing Meg into her bedroom. That only served to strengthen her. She didn't recognize him anymore. He saw the light of familiarity leave.  
"It's me, Meg, it's Fraser." He turned loose of her wrists and wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair. She sobbed against his chest when she finally quit fighting him.  
"That's all over, you're safe, Meg. Nothing can hurt you now." He began rocking her as they stood at the foot of her bed.  
"I didn't deserve it, Fraser, I didn't deserve for them to die. It should have been me." She choked out between sobs. The Mountie's tears mixed with hers as he held her. Benton had a new respect for Meg's inner strength.  
"I screamed your name, but you weren't there, you couldn't help me, Fraser, no one could help me." Meg pulled away from him, her nails biting into her palms until she'd cut them bloody. When Meg wiped her face, Benton noticed the blood running down her arms.  
"I'm here now, Meg, I'm not going anywhere." He sat her down on the foot of the bed and pried her fingers away from her palms.  
"Why, Fraser, why?" Meg sobbed, still shaking. Benton pulled out his handkerchief and tore it down the middle. Carefully, he put one half against each palm until he could dress them properly.  
"I don't know why, Meg." He knelt down in front of her. He hated to think she'd needed him and he couldn't be there to protect her. Benton's heart broke for her. He didn't understand how people could be so inhumane, so evil.  
"Lay back while I find something to dress your hands." Benton stood up and went to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. He found the first aid kit and returned to the bedroom with it and a wet wash cloth.  
"I don't know how you can even look at me after what I've done, Fraser." Fresh tears welled up in Meg's dark eyes as she lay at the foot of the bed, staring into space.  
"You did what you had to in order to survive. You're a strong, caring person." He met her gaze steadily as he bandaged her hands.  
"I lost pieces of myself while I was in Iraq, not that I was whole to begin with." Meg sighed, remembering with shame how she'd let her pride and fear control her. "I lost an even bigger piece after I came back. Alice was born June 18, 2000. Sometimes I wonder what she would have looked like." Meg slipped her bandaged hand to her flat stomach. She looked out beyond him, toward the full length mirror near her closet in the corner.  
"You were with child when you escaped?" Benton felt sick at his stomach, thinking of the things this beautiful woman had endured and witnessed. Meg nodded, meeting his gaze for a moment.  
"I'm sorry, Meg, truly." Benton laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder.  
"She would be twelve by now." A small smile picked at the corners of her lips but tears streamed down her cheeks. "She was still born. I buried her next to my parents."   
Fraser sat down on the side of the bed behind her, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at his boots.  
"You can't look at me, can you?" Meg studied his reflection in the mirror, tears still streaming down her cheeks. Benton whirled, meeting her gaze in the cool, still glass. With his characteristic silence, the Mountie rounded the end of the bed and knelt down in front of her. Gently, he wiped her tears away with his thumb. Meg closed her eyes, the worst of her emotions cried out. There was such kindness in his touch; such comfort. With a feather light touch, Benton leaned in and pressed a kiss against her cheek.  
"You are too good to be true, Constable Benton Fraser." Meg let out a shuttering sigh. "How are you so understanding, so forgiving?" She raised herself on one elbow to look him in the eye. Benton shrugged and gave her one of his crooked smiles.  
"I've been so afraid all this time that you would hate me when you found out. I never wanted you to see me like this." Meg indicated her red, puffy face and tear stained t-shirt.  
"Loving someone means seeing them through good times and bad, Meg." Benton cupped her cheek in his hand, brushing away her never ending supply of tears.  
"Love?" The one word surprised both of them. Meg shook her head, wondering if this had all been a dream. Maybe she was still lying on the couch and Fraser had never returned to check on her.  
"After a fashion, yes." The Mountie admitted. He'd always imagined telling her this in such a different way, something with candle light and soft music.  
"It's been fourteen years, Fraser, how can you be certain?" Meg pointed out. She didn't want to come this far only to lose him again, but she knew that this time she wouldn't let her pride or her career interfere. This time Benton meant more to her than the RCMP did, or herself for that matter.  
"You still take my breath away when you walk into the room." He responded, his tongue toying with his eye tooth.  
"Does he know how sexy that is?" Meg thought as she stared at him. The first time she'd seen him do that, she'd nearly come unglued. It added to his mysterious air, something sinful, seductive, sensual was lurking beneath that angelic facade.  
"Have I got something on my face?" Benton began wiping his chin, turning to look in the mirror behind him.  
"No, you're fine." Meg tugged at his hand, yawning. She felt sleepy again after her crying spell. Twice in one day she'd let her weakness get the best of her.  
"I should leave, you need to rest." The Mountie began to rise to his feet. Meg sat up on the bed.  
"Stay, Fraser. I want us to talk a while longer." She felt clingy suddenly, like her world would disappear if he left.  
"Alright." He settled himself on the hardwood floor at the foot of Meg's bed. For the first time, Meg had Benton's undivided attention. She intended to use the time wisely, but saying all the things she'd kept to herself for so long.  
***


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Chapter 14 Omar Bilal  
The Cabin …  
Ray sat on the couch in the living room, his arm around Maggie as Dief and Aurora sprawled in front of the fire lazily. They'd wondered if they should wait supper on Fraser but Ray voted for food and the sooner the better. Maggie shook her head. As long as she'd known him, Ray Kowalski had had a zest for food. Not a single pound of it seemed to stick.  
"It's getting late, do you think Benton is alright?" Maggie asked after a sip of hot chocolate. She pulled her feet up beneath her on the old couch.  
"Yeah, Fraser's fine." Ray shrugged, running his hand through his wife's soft, thick hair.  
"I'm concerned about whatever it is Inspector Thatcher's keeping from us." Maggie laced the fingers of her right hand with Ray's. She loved how they fit together so naturally.  
"You think the Ice Queen's gonna end up hurtin' him, don't you." Ray sighed, he'd lived through the after effects of the first time Ben and Meg had parted ways.  
"Yes, I think it's a very real possibility." Maggie turned to get a better look at her hubby's face in the fire light. She knew from first hand experience what it felt like to be betrayed by someone you thought you knew. Her first marriage had been based on a deception.  
"Fraser ain't goin' into this thing with his eyes shut, Maggie. This ain't his first rodeo with Thatcher. When he took that leave of absence, she could have come clean with him, he could have done the same. Neither of them did." Ray pointed out.  
"Love has a way of blinding people, even Benton. He apprehended Victoria Metcalf and she was put in prison for ten years, he was still drawn into her deception in Chicago." Maggie countered. Ray had to concede the point. He knew as well as anyone that when love was in play, anything could happen to anyone, especially someone as in-control as Benton Fraser.  
"Were you able to find anything on Ambrose McConaughey?" Maggie asked, changing the subject. Her instincts told her that he wasn't what he wanted people to think.  
"Yep, he has a file dating back to his late teens. McConaughey's grandfather founded the mining company, working his son like a slave until it took off. The father took it over in the seventies and Ambrose in the late nineties, when his father had a fishy kind of hunting accident. Since then, the company's profits have soared. There's a stack of environmental reports three inches thick sayin' McConaughey's suspected of cuttin' corners. There's also a file just as thick of complaints from the local yokels about how he goes about trying to buy their land. This guy's a real piece of work." Ray gave her the gist of his research.  
Aurora stood up, staring at the front door. She turned back to Maggie as if to say 'He's home'.  
"What is it girl, is Benton home?" Aurora wagged her tail in response. The front door opened and Fraser stepped inside to four pairs of expectant eyes.  
"Hey, Buddy, house call run long?" Ray greeted him, a devilish twinkle in his light eyes. Maggie nudged him in the ribs.  
"Inspector Thatcher and I had a lengthy conversation after dinner." He seemed weary to the bone. Diefenbaker came over to his human and began sniffing him. The old wolf could smell the scent of the Inspector's fabric softener on him and something else.  
"So, you and Thatcher had dinner, alone, in her apartment then?" Ray asked, needling his old friend. The Mountie gave him a reproving stare as he hung his Stetson on a nail beside the door.  
"Inspector Thatcher is an excellent cook." Fraser pulled a kitchen chair over to the living area and took a seat.  
"What did you talk about, if I may?" Maggie cut to the chase. She studied her brother's face, trying to guess what had happened.  
"The Inspector told me the particulars about her assignment with the CSIS and the time afterward. She's been through quite an ordeal." Fraser took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, rubbing his eyes as if to remove a bad image.  
"I pulled as much about Thatcher as I could, everything about those missing years is locked up tighter than Fort Knox. I tried to get into her medical files, got the same results." Ray shrugged.  
"The bulk of those years is irrelevant to the case at hand. The attempts on Inspector Thatcher's life may have something to do with McConaughey Mining. She mentioned that Ambrose McConaughey had vowed to see her out of office. That corroborates what Constable Hansen told us."  
"We should see who's on McConaughey's payroll. I'll pull those files tomorrow and begin a thorough background check on each of them." Maggie volunteered. She knew that Hansen wouldn't mind helping and she intended to use his knowledge of the local social climate to her advantage.  
"I'll call and see what progress has been made on the Jeep's forensics." Fraser added.  
"Where does that leave me?" Ray whined playfully.  
"You get to be Benton's partner again for tomorrow." Maggie leaned her head on his shoulder and smiled.  
Ambrose McConaughey's Office …  
Seven- thirty wasn't all that early for Omar to be at work. He'd woken up hours earlier, taking his sniper rifle into the woods behind the mining company's bunk house. He'd always been an early riser. It wasn't hard to get on up after having a gut wrenching nightmare at least twice a week since he was nine.  
Since the day he'd watched his uncle beheaded for aiding that Canadian woman, he'd been planning his retribution on Meg Thatcher. He'd studied night and day to earn a degree in engineering. He knew the only way he could find her was to get out of the Middle East. The missionaries that had taken him in supported him through college. Their counterparts in Canada had helped him immigrate to Canada. He'd lied to everyone, telling them he wanted to find Meg Thatcher to say thank you for helping him out of Iraq as a child. After two years of searching high and low, he'd found her in Spencer Falls. The young man began going by his middle name- Bilal or Bill, for short. He didn't care what they called him, as long as he could get close enough to Meg Thatcher to get a clean shot.  
"Hey, Bilal, meet me up at the front office, okay?" Ambrose called over the radio as the young man drove up the mountain to the mining works.  
"I'll be there in a minute." Omar Bilal responded stopping along the gravel road and navigating the big, Ford Superduty into a wide spot to turn around.  
Fifteen minutes later, Omar Bilal pulled the truck into the lot in front of the cement block building. He slid out, his boots hitting the loose gravel. He knew that Ambrose McConaughey was pissed that he hadn't taken the Inspector out with the ambush.  
"Bilal, come in." Ambrose shouted from inside the building. His tone confirmed that the mine owner was unhappy. The young man sighed as he took the steps two at a time.  
"Mr. McConaughey, good morning." Omar Bilal pasted a smile on his dark features.  
"Sit down, Bilal, we need to talk before everyone gets in for work." Ambrose leaned forward on his desk, his long shirt sleeves rolled up as usual. "You've tried four times to kill that bitch, Meg Thatcher, now I want to know why she isn't planted somewhere beneath a marble headstone." Ambrose growled, his eyes as cold as any Canadian winter wind.  
"Thatcher is hard to kill. Her Mountie friend managed to use the vehicle as a shield day before yesterday when I ambushed them. My next attempt will be much more personal. No one will stop me next time." Omar Bilal answered with as much warmth as Ambrose felt for the pain in the ass Inspector.  
"You'd better get her this time, or I'll take matters into my own hands." Ambrose leaned back, his arms crossed over his chest. He was a master businessman but he didn't mind getting down and dirty once in a while.  
"I understand, Mr. McConaughey." Omar Bilal nodded solemnly then rose from the metal folding chair and walked out of the office. Ambrose didn't like the young man's snotty attitude. After he took care of Meg Thatcher, Ambrose planned on taking care of Omar Bilal, he was a loose end.  
After the Flashback …  
Meg redressed the gouge marks on the palms of her hands with band-aids, hoping that no one would notice the new wounds and ask questions. It was enough to explain about the scratches on her face. She sat smiling at her dressing table.  
"He left handedly admitted he loves me." The Inspector thought as she pinned a section of her hair back from her face with bobby pins. It felt so good to hear, even in a round about way, after so long alone. There had been dates and relationships over the years but none of them progressed very far. No one was Benton Fraser.  
With a dreamy smile, Meg finished her morning routine, wanting to arrive early. She knew Fraser would be there well before his shift was to start. It was the first time in ages that she felt excited to go to work. She ran her hands over her khaki slacks, straightening the pleat with her fingers. The mint green blouse she wore was comfortable but also flattered her figure. Meg worked hard to maintain herself physically. She still had numbness in her hands and feet occasionally from being bound for so long. Arthritis was beginning to creep in during the winter as well. Meg didn't let either problem hinder her work. She was just glad she was free and healthy.  
The Inspector greeted the day with a smile. She and Fraser had spent quality time talking like they hadn't allowed themselves to before. Thinking over their conversation of the evening before, Meg walked to the post. He was still the same, gentle, intelligent man she'd known in Chicago.  
"Good morning, Inspector Thatcher, I hope you're feeling better." Constable Wilder greeted her.  
He was a green, young officer when Meg had taken over Spencer Falls. Wilder was quiet but a good officer. She knew him well enough to know that he wasn't too fond of having a female superior officer but he'd never given her any trouble about it. For that, she was grateful and tried to be as fair and reasonable as possible.  
"Yes, I'm feeling better, thank you, Constable Wilder." Meg nodded as she made her way toward her office. It took her a moment to make out who was standing in the doorway of her office.  
"Inspector, hello." Fraser greeted her, his eyes studying her features. He noted her rested appearance and faint blush.  
"Constable Fraser, good morning." Meg walked into her office as he stood back to allow her through. She stopped, pinning him against the door frame. Their eyes locked for a moment, neither of them speaking. Meg smiled before moving on into the office.  
"Where are Constable Kowalski and Ray this morning?" Meg settled herself at her desk, pulling her glasses out before she turned on the computer. With only a trace of her old vanity, she slid the wire framed spectacles onto her nose.  
"Maggie's shift doesn't begin until noon. She and Ray are at the cabin with Dief and Aurora." Ben answered, coming nearer to the desk.  
"How is Ben?" Meg asked, still looking at her computer screen. There were a dozen emails from her superiors and very few of them amounted to a hill of beans.  
"I spoke to him last night, he's learning to paddle a canoe today. I wanted to say thank you again for arranging for him to go to camp, Inspector." Fraser hated having to call her by her rank now that he could call her 'Meg'.  
"Perhaps he could come next year as well." Meg offered, hoping Fraser caught her double meaning.  
"Yes, we would both like that." The Mountie answered with a twinkle in his eye. Meg smiled, her heart soaring.  
"Excuse me, Sirs, but there's a call for Constable Fraser, from the forensics lab." Wilder said after tapping on the door. He'd seen the way his superior officer and the consulate jockey looked at each other. It chaffed but Wilder had seen Inspector Thatcher in some pretty hairy situations and knew she wouldn't let her emotions over rule her common sense and duty to the RCMP.  
"Thank you kindly, Constable Wilder." Fraser nodded, turning, his hands behind his back. He turned back to Meg. "If you'll excuse me, Sir, I've been expecting this call." He smiled at her, lingering on her coy expression before it flashed to her usual professionalism.  
"Let me know what the forensics lab says, please, Constable." Meg said, her voice carrying into the main room.  
"Hello, Constable Fraser speaking." The Mountie identified himself after he picked up the phone and hit the flashing button for line two. He sat down at the desk and prepared to take notes.  
"Compton here, hello." The lab tech greeted him enthusiastically. "I have the ballistics report on the Jeep, it's a World War Two, Russian sniper rifle." Fraser wrote down the information, trying to visualize the weapon in his mind's eye. "The ammunition was hand loaded. Unfortunately, the sniper used gloves because I can't find any fingerprints, not even partials or smudges. I did find trace amounts of labradorite on the casings." Compton's voice reminded Fraser of a child with a new toy.  
"Rainbow moonstone," Fraser said mostly to himself.  
"Yes, exactly, the very kind found around Spencer Falls." Compton's excitement grew.  
"Is there anything else about the casings?" Fraser asked, derailing Compton from giving him a geology lesson. The Mountie had encountered rainbow moonstone among the Inuit. It was held in high esteem in their oral traditions.  
"No, nothing special. If I find anything more I'll let you know first thing, Constable Fraser." Compton's eagerness waned after Fraser cut him off.  
"Thank you kindly, Officer Compton." Fraser hung up the phone. This was the proof that Meg's assassin was affiliated with McConaughey Mining. Still, it was tenuous at best and he knew it. He hoped that Maggie's efforts would turn up something more concrete.  
"Inspector Thatcher?" Fraser interrupted her after tapping on the door. He was greeted with a brief smile.  
"Yes, Constable?" She pulled her glasses off and set them on her desk blotter. Once she would have hidden them in her desk drawer. Fraser reminded himself to tell her later how good she looked in her glasses.  
"Compton from the forensics lab called, he didn't find fingerprints but he did find traces of rainbow moonstone." Fraser informed her quickly.  
"That's one of the gem stones that McConaughey Mining is known for. Do you think the shooter is an employee of the mining company?" Meg spoke in a hushed tone. She and McConaughey had never seen eye to eye but she didn't think it was bad enough for him to want her dead.  
"I'm not certain yet, it is common to the area, the shooter could have come into contact with the gem anywhere." The Mountie pointed out logically.  
"Yes, I suppose so." Meg still seemed disquieted about the implications. Her training told her he was absolutely right, but her gut told her that it wasn't that cut and dried.  
"Maggie's going through the mining company's employee list today, perhaps there's a lead there." Fraser put forth, trying to distract Meg.  
"Yes, perhaps." She responded thoughtfully.  
"We will get to the bottom of this, Inspector." Benton bent down, leaning both hands on her desk to look her square in the eye.  
"I know you will, Fraser." Meg smiled sadly, her eyes clouded. "You always get your man." She said quietly, gazing up into his eyes. Determination shone fiercely in his blue eyes.  
***  
Author's Note: Oldershaw, Cally. Guide to Gems. pg. 180. New York. Firefly. 2004


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Chapter 15 Ben the Hero  
McConaughey Mining …  
Omar Bilal wasn't very well liked by the miners he worked with. They didn't like his superior attitude or seeming lack of a personality. He kept to himself in the bunk house and turned angry whenever someone tried to engage him in conversation. They steered clear of the young engineer, muttering insults behind his back. To him, the low brow miners didn't matter enough to bother getting angry over. He was a cold, callous jerk who wouldn't put himself out for anyone. After a while, the miners left him alone.  
After leaving McConaughey's office, Omar Bilal drove back up the mountain and back to work. While he went through the motions, Omar plotted Meg's death. He knew McConaughey wouldn't wait forever. He didn't want to wait either. She had to die.  
Getting Ready at the Cabin …  
Maggie had a devil of a time getting Ray up and running for her noon shift. The former detective found a hundred reason not to get going. She hated to but she forced him to put aside his frisky ideas and get ready. Even the effervescent Aurora was annoyed at him.  
"Come on, Ray, this isn't a second honeymoon." Maggie adjusted her Stetson, ready to head out the door. Ray sat on the couch, tying his shoes.  
"Hey, can we uh, do that, have a second honeymoon?" Ray asked, talking with one had and pulling his shoelaces with the other. Maggie turned around, trying to hide a smile.  
"We just got back from the first one a little less than a year ago, come on." She chuckled, shaking her head.  
"Yeah, but we could use another one, I mean, we ain't getting any younger." Ray persisted, his eyes smiling as he teased her.  
Eventually, Maggie got Ray on his feet and down to the post. Fraser and Wilder were working on the daily paperwork when his old friend and his younger sister arrived. Aurora and Dief immediately began their sniff filled hello.  
"Hello, Maggie, Ray." Fraser set aside his work to greet them. The phone rang, interrupting the Mountie.  
"Hello, Spencer Falls Post, Constable Fraser speaking." The Mountie identified himself.  
"Compton here, I'm calling about the footage you sent for analysis. I managed to isolate the burglar's image. I also managed to determine what it was that disabled the security light. I've sent the enlargements to Inspector Thatcher's official email." Compton informed Fraser enthusiastically.  
"Thank you, Officer Compton. I'll take a look at the images in a moment." Fraser hung up a minute later.  
"Forensics has an image of the burglar from McConaughey's equipment yard." Fraser informed Maggie after he hung up. "Compton sent it to the Inspector."  
"Let's see who it is, shall we?" Maggie clocked in, and made her way to Thatcher's office. Fraser followed her toward the office door.  
"Come in, Constable Kowalski, I was expecting you." Meg called from her desk. She'd checked her email. Fraser stepped into the office. He immediately saw the worry on the boss lady's face, despite her efforts to appear unaffected.  
"Officer Compton from the forensics lab just called." Fraser stood in front of Meg's desk, studying her.  
"I received his email just a few minutes ago." Meg beckoned Fraser and Maggie around the desk to see the image she'd been staring at for ten minutes.  
"Do you recognize this man, Inspector?" Maggie asked innocently.  
"I'm not certain, Constable Kowalski, I …" Meg stalled, "The image is rather blurry."   
Fraser didn't buy her answer, he knew she may wear glasses but the image was clear as a crystal.  
"Maggie, there's a call for ya, someone callin' about McConaughey." Ray poked his head into the open office door. He shrugged instead of trying to explain the message further.  
"Thank you, Ray." The blonde Mountie stood up, a thoughtful expression on her features.  
"If you'll excuse me, Inspector." She wanted briefly to be dismissed.  
"Yes, Constable." Meg breathed a sigh of relief. She'd wanted to talk to Fraser in private anyway.  
"Close the door, please, Fraser." She directed him, her worry breaking through her mask.  
"What is it, Meg?" Benton leaned on the desk as she turned her chair to look up at him. He spoke in a low voice so as not to be overheard.  
"I know who the burglar is," She let out a shaky sigh, "That's Omar Bilal Zaman."  
"The boy from Iraq?" Fraser's mind began to spin. His theory that the assassin and McConaughey Mining were connected fit perfectly. He still need irrefutable proof though.  
"Yes, he'd be almost twenty-five by now." Meg would never forget that little boy's intense gaze or the hatred in his obsidian eyes.  
"Are you certain it's this young man?" Fraser slid off the desk and squatted at eye level with her.  
"I know it's him, Benton. Omar vowed to get revenge on me for the death of his family. He would have killed me himself all those years ago." Meg's eyes began to well up. She still felt guilty about their deaths. No child should see the horrors she knew Omar had seen. Fraser reached out and took her hand in both of his.  
"I won't let anything happen to you, Meg."   
She smiled through her tears as she squeezed his hand.  
"I know, Benton, I know." She wiped her tears away, afraid that at any moment one of her junior officers would walk through the door and catch them together. Fraser might not be her subordinate officer in anything but name only, but Meg felt she still had a responsibility to uphold the RCMP regulations. He gave her hand a gentle pat before pulling back.  
****  
Maggie picked up the phone and introduced herself.  
"Hello, this is Doug Ward, foreman with McConaughey Mining Company. I was supposed to come to the post a few days ago but I've been in the hospital until this morning, got my hand caught, nearly took my index finger off, broke my arm in four places." From the accent, Maggie guessed that Mr. Ward wasn't a native Canadian. He spoke slowly and with a mild twang.  
"My sympathy, Mr. Ward. I needed to speak to you in regards to the theft of catalytic converters from the equipment yard." Maggie had wondered about why the foreman hadn't contacted the post yet.  
"Alright, I'll be down there in about half an hour." Mr. Ward hung up a moment later.  
"That the foreman?" Ray had been listening to the conversation.  
"Yes. He should be able to identify the image of the burglar for us." Maggie's face brightened, it felt good to make progress on a case.  
"I love watching you work." Ray said, a dreamy cast to his blue eyes.   
Maggie grinned. "You love watching me do anything." She rolled her eyes at him, shoving him playfully.  
"Well, yeah, kinda." He admitted with a wink. Maggie winked back at him. Ray kept her feeling like a teenager in love.  
"Maggie, we have to leave, there's been an accident at the camp." Fraser's face was as white as fresh snow when he came out of the Inspector's office. Meg walked out behind him.  
"Oh dear, what's happened?" Maggie's eyes widened in alarm.  
"Mr. Daniels called a moment ago, Ben was trying to help one of the other, younger boys who'd fallen over an embankment into the lake. Ben saved the boy but they're both in the hospital for observation." The Mountie adjusted his Stetson, trying to hide his shaking hands.  
"I'll drive." Meg offered from outside the group.  
"You should stay here at the post." Fraser turned to her, his eyes pleading with her to stay put.  
"He's right, Inspector, McConaughey's foreman, Doug Ward, will be here any moment." Maggie added.  
"Yes, I suppose. At least take Constable Wilder with you, he's familiar with the area." Meg insisted, wishing she could go with them. Her dark eyes betrayed her emotions. She hated feeling clingy.  
"I'll keep you informed, Inspector Thatcher." Fraser nodded, his face still pale. As much as he wanted to see that Ben was safe, he wanted to know that Meg would be alright too. He felt torn.  
"Dief, stay here." Fraser knelt down and enunciated his order so there would be no misunderstanding. The old wolf seemed to nod in response.  
"Aurora, you stay as well." Maggie ordered the lady wolf. Aurora looked up at her human and seemed to smile. "Good girl." Maggie scratched the wolf between the ears.  
"Take care of Ben, don't worry about things here." Meg assured him, clasping her hands in front of her to prevent herself from pulling Fraser into a hug. Their lips hadn't touched in almost a decade and a half, but she felt the overwhelming urge to kiss him just the same.  
"I'll call and let you know about Ben." Fraser said before turning and leaving the post. He might as well have said, 'I'll call and check on you.'  
The Hospital …  
"Is Patrick alright, Mr. Daniels, he was scared." Ben's voice sounded strained when Fraser walked into the emergency room. Maggie and Ray were on the Mountie's heels like bubble gum.  
"Yeah, Ben, he's fine, he was asking about you actually." George Daniels was standing at the foot of the hospital bed, wet to his waist from wading in after the boys.  
"Ben, son, there you are." Fraser nodded to the other man before taking a seat on the side of the boy's bed.  
"Hi, Dad, I'm sorry I scared you with this." Ben tried to say through his father's bear hug.  
"You're safe, that's the most important thing, Ben." Fraser let go of the boy and began examining him for himself. Other than being pale and drained, everything seemed fine.  
"You have a brave son, Constable Fraser. Ben here didn't hesitate at all when he saw Patrick lose his footing and fall." George grinned.  
"It's nothing Dad wouldn't have done too." Ben shrugged the praise off.  
"How did this happen?" Maggie asked as she took a seat on the other side of Ben.  
"Mr. Daniels and I were on a nature hike around the lake with one group of the younger boys. Patrick was staring at an eagle overhead. He wasn't paying attention to his feet and fell over the bank, about ten feet. He hit a rock pretty hard and landed in the lake. I just went in after him. Patrick can't swim and he tried to get away from me." Ben told the story simply, downplaying his role in the whole thing.  
"Ben kept Patrick from drowning, he's a hero." George Daniels patted the boy's foot.  
"You did the right thing, Ben, I'm proud of you." Fraser just had to hug his son one more time, relieved that he was okay.  
"Thanks, Dad." Ben croaked out, a broad smile on his face. He was certain that if his mother were there she'd be crying buckets.  
"Constable Benton Fraser?" A woman's voice spoke from the entrance to the glass encased exam room.  
"Yes?" Fraser turned around to see a petite, young woman with a chart in her hand.  
"Hello, I'm Nurse Zaman." The young woman introduced herself, peering around at the two Mounties, George Daniels and Ray. She had to look up to everyone but Maggie, who was still a bit taller than her. The intense expression on Fraser's face puzzled her but she chalked it up to the emergency.  
"The doctor will be in to talk with you in a moment, okay?" Her long, dark hair was pulled into a loose bun at the back of her head, showcasing her oval face and big, dark eyes.  
"Come on, let's get some coffee, give them some space." Maggie suggested, pulling on Ray's arm to get him to move.  
"Thank you kindly, Nurse Zaman." Fraser stood up. He wanted to talk to the young woman with the same last name as the man Meg had identified but didn't want to work the case over his son's safety.  
"If you need anything, I'll be at the nurses' station." She nodded and left the exam room.  
"Dad, how is the Inspector's investigation going?" Ben asked, laying back against the hospital bed. He wanted to talk about anything except jumping into the lake to save Patrick.  
"It's going well. We believe we've identified the man responsible for the attacks." Fraser answered. He sat back down on the side of the bed.  
"Have you caught him yet?" The boy persisted, dying for more information. He could tell from the phone conversations they'd had that Fraser and Meg had gotten closer.  
"No, not yet, but I feel we're close." The Mountie twiddled his thumbs as he told Ben about the security tapes of the thief stealing catalytic converters from McConaughey Mining. The boy listened eagerly.  
"I bet Grandpa Bob would love to have worked this one, save the damsel in distress and all." Ben laughed. Fraser shook his head.  
"Dad did have a flair for the dramatic on occasion." He was glad that Ben had gotten to meet Robert Fraser, even if it wasn't face to face. Face to ectoplasm was better than nothing.  
"Hello again, Ben." A gentleman in his late forties greeted the boy from the door of the exam room. He was wearing a pair of khakis and a dress shirt beneath his white coat.  
"Dr. James, this is my dad, Constable Benton Fraser." Ben piped up proudly. Fraser stood and shook the man's hand.  
"Constable, nice to meet you. Ben here is fine, he's going to be bruised and should take it easy for the next few days, but otherwise he's as healthy as a horse." Dr. James assured the Mountie with a smile.  
"How is Patrick, Dr. James?" Ben asked, anxious about the younger boy. Fraser was proud to see the concern in his son's face.  
"Thanks mostly to you, Patrick will be just fine." Dr. James patted the boy on the shoulder with a grin.  
"Thank you kindly, Dr. James." Ben laid back, relieved to hear it.  
"I'll tell him you were asking about him." The doctor offered. It wasn't often he saw the results of a teen's bravery and concern. Days like this made the job less of a job and more of a calling.  
"The nurse will bring you some paperwork to sign and you should be on your way soon. Constable Fraser, Ben, pleased to have met you both." Dr. James nodded to both of them before turning to leave.  
"Can I stay with you and Aunt Maggie and Uncle Ray tonight, Dad?" Ben asked, his eyes beginning to droop. All he wanted was a quiet place to rest before having to tell the story again and answer a bunch of questions.  
"I think that's a wonderful idea. I'll let Mr. Daniels know before we leave the hospital." Fraser ruffled the boy's hair.  
"Hey, Benton, would you like some coffee?" Maggie asked from the doorway, one cup in her hand for herself and the other for him.  
"No, but I do need to make a phone call." Fraser stood up, reluctant to leave Ben.  
"I'll sit with him, no problem." Maggie offered, taking the chair near the bed.  
"Thank you, Maggie." Fraser felt his sister squeeze his arm for a moment before he left the room.  
Fraser took his cell phone and found a quiet spot in the parking lot to call Meg. He asked for the Inspector and waited for her to take his call.  
"Hello, Meg, I'm at the hospital. Ben's fine, he's coming back to Spencer Falls with me." He scanned the parking lot, absently taking in the variety of vehicles beneath the clear, June sky.  
"Oh, that's a relief." In his mind's eye, Meg was seated behind her desk, her glasses on her nose as she leaned back to listen to his voice. He could see her smile as she slipped her shoes off beneath her desk. She'd been caught more than once barefoot while in Chicago. Meg didn't wear polish on her fingernails but Fraser had noted that she wore a fire engine red on her toes quite often. It was a tiny glimpse into the woman behind the rank.  
"Tell Ben I hope he's feeling well. I've been talking to Doug Ward. He identified the man in the photo as Omar Zaman as well. He said he doesn't know why the young man would steal catalytic converters, he has a generous salary." Meg sounded as puzzled as Fraser felt.  
"We have the connection we need to put out a BOLO for Omar." Fraser pointed out.  
"I've already done that. Constables Hansen and Ford are searching for him now. They know how dangerous Omar can be, I've told them he will most likely not be taken alive, and to be very careful." Meg hated putting any officer in harm's way, especially if she could prevent it. Omar had proven that he didn't mind killing an innocent by-stander if it meant killing her in the process.  
"That's a prudent move. Maggie and Ray will be back as soon as the release paperwork is finished." Fraser wanted to get back to Spencer Falls – ASAP.  
"I'll be waiting for you, Benton." Meg whispered softly into the phone.  
"Take care, Meg." He answered in a warm, vibrating whisper that sent good chills down Meg's spine. He hung up and scanned the parking lot, wondering when Nurse Zaman's shift was over so he could question her. He suspected she was Omar's sister but a shared last name wasn't enough proof.  
***  
BOLO=Be On the Look Out


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Chapter 16  
McConaughey Mining …  
Constable Hansen drove the RCMP Jeep like his foot was on fire. He wanted to apprehend Omar Zaman badly. The usually easygoing officer kept his own counsel about his motivation to catch the thief. He barely saw the large, Ford truck in the cloud of dust billowing up and down the mountain. Hansen quickly hugged the ditch line, avoiding the much larger vehicle.  
"I know it's him, Benton. Omar vowed to get revenge on me for the death of his family. He would have killed me himself all those years ago." Hansen had been standing near the door of the Inspector's office, ready to knock when he heard her say those words. He knew Inspector Thatcher wasn't responsible for anyone's murder. She'd been too kind and helpful to the people of Spencer Falls. Hansen wasn't about to let anyone hurt the Inspector.  
The Jeep skidded to a stop on the deep gravel near the mining works. Dust hung in the air as men worked to remove the precious stone hidden in the earth. Hansen took the lead. He walked up to the first miner he came to and asked,  
"Is Omar Bilal Zaman here right now?" His voice carried across the site. The miner looked at the fierce looking officer, his eyes wide.  
"No, he left a few minutes ago, you must have met him on your way up here." The man shrugged, confused.  
"In the Jeep, Constable Ford." Hansen turned on his heel and marched back to the Jeep. He put the four wheel drive in gear and tore out of the gravel lot.  
"What's your problem, Hansen?" Ford asked as he hung onto the safety bar for dear life.  
"We just passed Omar Zaman on our way up here, if we hurry we can catch him before he attacks the Inspector." Ford's eyes widened when he heard that. An attack on Inspector Thatcher was news to him.  
"How do you know he's after the Inspector?" Ford demanded as he braced for a hard left.  
"I just do, trust me." Hansen didn't take his eyes off the road as they hit the pavement and took off.  
Omar had spotted the RCMP Jeep on his way back down the mountain. Fearful, he sped the Ford Superduty onto the road and off toward the bunkhouse. If he was going to kill Meg Thatcher he knew it would have to be soon.  
First he needed to gather his gear. Second he needed to ditch the huge, Ford truck for something harder to spot; his dirt bike. Omar had practiced living light, keeping only the things he needed to survive.  
McConaughey Mining's bunkhouse was a low slung, block structure. There were two dozen rooms, each with a full restroom, refrigerator and microwave. Two men usually shared a room but the rest of the mining crew refused to go anywhere near Omar. That suited him fine. For so long he'd craved revenge on Meg Thatcher. Now he was going to get it, if it was the last thing he did.  
Taking his sniper rifle, ammunition and camping gear, the young man emptied his room of his belongings, packing it all in a backpack. Omar pulled the tarp off his dirt bike and saddled up. In ten minutes he had made his way to a campsite in a remote area on McConaughey's land. The mining director didn't know, nor would he care, that Omar had siphoned off explosives, money and other materials while waiting until the time was right to strike. Omar had only one exit strategy- death.  
Home from the Hospital …  
It was a snug ride in the RCMP Jeep with four adults and Ben. The boy had to squeeze into the back seat with Maggie and Ray. He didn't mind, he was glad to be out of the hospital.  
"So, is Dief liking the country out here?" Ben leaned forward to ask his dad. It wasn't the question he wanted to ask, but he decided to ask about things between Fraser and Meg back at the cabin.  
"He's quite happy here, it's difficult to get him inside without the promise of food." Fraser answered over his shoulder.  
"I bet Aurora is the same way." Ben turned to Maggie who was eying Ray and smiling coquettishly.  
"No, Spencer Falls isn't that much different from my post, the new has already worn off for her." Maggie shrugged.  
"I've missed them both." Ben went on.  
Constable Wilder listened to the conversation in silence. He had pieced together that Inspector Thatcher had worked with Fraser years ago in the States, that Ray was an American detective and that Maggie McKenzie Kowalski was Fraser's younger sister. It was an interesting situation. Wilder had heard stories and whispers about the Mountie working in Chicago his whole career. His verdict on the whole thing was still out. Wilder tended to believe only what he witnessed for himself. The younger officer knew more than anyone suspected about Inspector Thatcher's past.  
"Are you headed back to the post?" Wilder asked as they arrived in Spencer Falls.  
"Yes, the post." Fraser answered. He needed to see Meg for himself.  
***  
Meg sat behind her desk, trying to get her day's work done. Aurora lay beside her on one side and Dief sat with his head on her knee. No matter what she did, including tossing him a Swiss Roll, Dief wouldn't leave her side. The old wolf looked up to her woefully.  
"What is your problem, Diefenbaker. I'm fine, I promise." Meg assured him for the third time. Still, he nudged her hand and left his head on her knee.  
Aurora's ears perked up and she stood when she heard the sound of a vehicle in the parking lot. When the door opened she smelled her human and the boy. She trotted out of Thatcher's office and into the main room.  
"Hello, girl, I'm glad to see you too." Maggie knelt down and said hello to her furry companion. Aurora then scoped out the other humans. Dief followed Meg into the main room.  
"Ah, Fraser, good. I don't know what is up with Diefenbaker, I can't turn around without tripping over him. He won't leave me alone, even when I give him a doggie treat." Meg pointed to the old wolf walking along side her.  
"My apologies, Sir. He may sense your anxiety, about the suspect." Fraser rushed to explain. Meg didn't look convinced but knew better than to dig any deeper.  
"How are you, Ben?" Meg switched the subject, her dark eyes examining boy for herself.  
"I'm fine, thank you, Inspector Thatcher. I just got the wind knocked out of me." He grinned, shrugging off her attention.  
"I understand that your quick thinking saved another camper from drowning, that was very brave of you." The Inspector smiled, noting the rising blush in his cheeks.  
"It was nothing, really." The boy shook his head.  
"Well, I'm glad to see that you're alright." Meg reached out to shake the boy's hand.  
"Hey, Frase, why don't Ben and me go back to the cabin, let him rest up." Ray came around to where he and the Mountie wouldn't be overheard.  
"Thank you, Ray, I appreciate it." Fraser felt relieved.  
"No problem, Buddy, you take care of Maggie and I'll take care of Ben, okay." Ray slapped his old partner on the back.  
"Would you mind taking Dief as well, he seems to be annoying Inspector Thatcher." Fraser asked as he watched his son and Meg interacting.  
"Sure, I will if I can. Personally, I think the wolf knows there's a thing goin' on between you and the Iron Maiden." Fraser whirled to look at his old friend.  
"You know, hormones, fairy mones, er whatever, Dief can smell 'em all over the two of you." The Mountie thought about it for a moment, his thumb nail smoothing his brow as he pondered.  
"That is a possibility, Dief is keenly in tune with my scent and body chemistry. Pheromone, the chemical that the majority of animals secrete to draw a potential mate, would be quite strong to his olfactory senses." Fraser reasoned. As usual, Ray quit listening after the first half of the sentence.  
"Yeah, anyway, me and Ben will hang out the rest of the afternoon at the cabin." Ray strolled off to let Maggie and Ben know the plan.  
"I'll see you for dinner, Dad." Ben waved as he and Ray walked out the door. The boy still looked a bit pale and seemed tired.  
"I'll call Ray and check on you later." Fraser walked them outside.   
Ben sighed, exasperated. "Okay, Dad, talk to you later." He shook his head as they turned to walk down the sidewalk.   
Fraser watched them for a moment before turning to go back inside. Meg stood on the other side of the post's front door, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the frame.  
"He's amazing." She said with a smile as she met Fraser's gaze. Dief had refused to leave the post and Meg's side. He sat quietly watching his human and his human's chosen female.  
"Yes, he is." Fraser leaned against the frame, his body language mirroring Meg's. He rubbed the tip of his tongue over his slightly imperfect eyetooth. Meg reached in and pulled the door shut, so as not to be overheard.  
"Why do you do that?" She said, her brown eyes lingering on the Mountie's moveable lips.  
"Do what?" He stood up straight, confused.  
"That thing you do with your tongue and your eyetooth. I've seen you do it when we were assigned to the consulate." Meg felt her heart racing as she decided to steal a moment from the work day for the two of them.  
"I wasn't aware that I was doing anything special." He met her gaze, noticing her wire framed glasses.  
"I always wondered what you were thinking when you did that. It's sexy." She added just above a whisper. Fraser's eyes went wide, flattered. Meg didn't think her heart could beat any harder without going into cardiac arrest. It was her first revelation made without being under duress. She was glad to see the smile begin to pick up the edges of Fraser's lips.  
"I was hoping to tell you about your glasses,"   
Meg stiffened. She still hated her glasses but they were a necessary evil these days.  
"I think they suit you, they're elegant on you." Fraser silently admonished himself for such a stiff compliment. "They bring out your eyes. I like your eyes." He thought to himself, "That sounded like a compliment Ben would have given a girl."  
Meg smiled broadly at the clumsy extolment. Her glasses didn't seem so bad anymore.  
"Thank you kindly, no one's said anything like that to me in a long time."   
Fraser loved the glow that seemed to spread as she smiled. This was the Meg Thatcher he'd suspected was hidden beneath the Inspector's mask all along.  
Dief stood up, whining to get Fraser's attention. All the sugar in the air was making him thirsty. Meg looked down at the old wolf who looked back at her. She thought sure he rolled his eyes at her before heading back into the main room of the post as Fraser held the door open.  
The rest of the day was spent trying to track down Omar Zaman. His immigration file was pulled, his college transcripts, criminal records, phone records and anything else that Fraser could think of to give them a clear picture of who this young man had grown into. By all accounts he was an intense, often hostile person who made excellent grades in school. The more Fraser studied the young man, the more concerned he became for Meg's safety. It didn't take long in a small place the size of Spencer Falls for the whole community to know there was a man hunt in the works.  
"Benton, it's five o'clock, Ray's called asking what you want for dinner." Maggie interrupted the Mountie as he read through Omar's immigration file.  
"Oh my, I should be heading home." He checked his watch. "Tell Ray I'll bring dinner." Fraser stopped in his tracks. It was also time for Meg to leave for her apartment.  
"Maggie, may I speak to you outside, please?" Fraser's voice was too calm.  
"What's going on, Benton?" Her pale blue eyes searched his face when they were out of earshot.  
"Maggie, I need someone to stay with Meg, ah, Inspector Thatcher tonight." Fraser tried to hide it as he winced.  
"You want me and Aurora to stay with her in case Omar Zaman decides to make his move tonight." She reasoned, letting her brother's gaff slide.  
"Yes, he may well know that we've identified him, putting the Inspector in danger." Genuine concern in his voice.  
"I agree. Let me call Ray and tell him while you inform the Inspector." Maggie suggested. She hated to give up a night with Ray but she hadn't seen her brother this anxious about a woman in his life, ever.  
"Thank you kindly, Maggie." Fraser looked her square in the eye. She could tell that this was important to him.  
"Glad to help, Benton." She smiled up at him before turning to go back inside.  
Meg gathered her purse and jacket slowly. She hated to be parted from Fraser even over night. It was comforting knowing he was just in the next room. The old days in Chicago came to mind, days when she would find excuses to call him into her office to see him.  
"Inspector, may I come in?" Fraser's voice interrupted her memories as she let the computer finish shutting down.  
"Constable Fraser, yes." She rounded the desk to meet him halfway to the door.  
"I feel that with Omar Zaman unaccounted for it would be prudent for someone to stay with you tonight at your apartment, or perhaps you could stay elsewhere." Fraser suggested, hoping she wouldn't be stubborn and refuse. He studied her for her reaction.  
"I can't ask anyone to put themselves in danger, having me as a guest. I also can't have one of my officers stay at my apartment, that wouldn't appear above board." Meg shook her head, her mind still sorting her options.  
"I've already asked Maggie and she's agreed. She and Aurora will stay tonight." Fraser didn't care about above board anymore, he wanted Meg to be safe. His blue eyes pleaded with her to be reasonable, to let him do this as much for his own peace of mind as well as her safety.  
"It's too much to ask, she and Ray Kowalski are newly married." Meg protested but her heart wasn't in it. Fraser took a deep breath, looking down between his feet for a moment.  
"I can see this is troubling you, Fraser, thank you. I just hope Aurora doesn't snore like Dief does." Meg relented. She was too old to waste time resisting him. She'd seen him be right too often to shut him down.  
"Come to the cabin with me, we can have dinner until Maggie's shift is over then I'll accompany you home." The Mountie offered.   
What was there for Meg to say? She smiled and nodded, pleased to be fussed over.  
"Good, it's settled." Fraser put his Stetson on his head firmly as he ushered Meg out the door ahead of him.  
***


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Chapter 17  
The cabin …  
Dinner with Ben, Fraser, and Ray was more fun than Meg had had in ages. Ray was a real talker when he had an audience. He and Ben told Meg the story of how Ben come to Chicago and been kidnapped. The boy left out the visits by his granddad's ghost. Meg let herself laugh. She spent time with the boys at Camp Cumberbatch but they were a bit shy around her for the most part. Meg wasn't good with children. Over the years she'd learned a few things but she knew she'd never be as good with children as George and Tootsie Daniels.  
"Do you play music like your dad?" Meg asked as they moved their coffee into the living room.  
"No, but he's teaching me to play hockey." Ben answered, sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace while the adults took seats on the couch and in the arm chair. Dief had taken up a spot on the floor between Fraser and Meg as they sat on opposite ends of the couch.  
"If you learn to play an instrument and play hockey, girls will flock around you." Meg leaned back against the couch, her gaze moving toward Fraser who stared into the flames. Ben shook his head, not knowing what to say.  
"She's telling the truth, Ben, and when me and the Inspector agree on something, write it in stone, cause it's got to be true." Ray added. Everyone laughed. They'd never gotten along all that smoothly. Mostly they kept the peace because of Fraser.  
"What do you say, Dad?" Ben asked as he drank a mug of hot chocolate.  
"About girls flocking?" Fraser asked, stalling his answer. He didn't want to think his son was old enough to pay attention to girls.  
"Yes, which is better, to be a hockey player or a guitar player, or both, like you?" They boy watched his father consider his answer carefully.  
"I believe a young lady may be initially attracted to a hockey player or a guitar player but she will more often come to care for the kind of man you are on the inside. You should treat people with the kind of respect and consideration you would wish them to treat you." Fraser spoke frankly. Neither Ray nor Meg had anything to add.  
"What time does Aunt Maggie's shift end?" Ben broke the ensuing silence. Meg checked her watch.  
"Oh my, she should be clocking out as we speak. I should be heading to my apartment to meet her." Meg stood up, setting her coffee on the kitchen table as she found her purse.  
"I'll walk you home." Fraser stood too, taking his leather jacket and Stetson from a peg by the door. Dief rose from his seat and came to stand beside Meg. He still watched her carefully.  
"Ah, I see we have a chaperon." Meg scratched the old wolf between the ears.  
"Have a good evening, Inspector." Ben wished her as he walked them to the door.  
"Thank you kindly, Ben. I'll hopefully see you tomorrow." She waved and walked through the door ahead of Fraser.  
"Don't stay up too late, Ben. I love you." Fraser said in a low voice as he closed the door. The boy nodded.  
"Love you, Dad." Ben answered. It had taken him a while to get used to saying that and meaning it. Ben knew that when it all boiled down, his dad loved him more than anything in the world.  
Fraser caught up to Meg and Dief easily as they headed toward the center of Spencer Falls. She chuckled as he extended his arm for her to take.  
"You are too good to be true, Benton Fraser." Meg sighed, feeling younger and freer than she had in ages.  
"Oh, how so?" He asked, his free hand covering hers as they walked down the sidewalk beneath the sparsely placed street lights.  
"You treat me like I'm a precious gem being guarded. I can take care of myself you know." She squeezed his hand. A cool breeze rustled the leaves around them, toying with Meg's hair.  
"I am well aware that you can take care of yourself, Meg. I simply want to help." Fraser sounded distant.  
"I've done it again, haven't I?" Meg sighed heavily. She could have kicked herself.  
"What?" He stopped in the shadow of a building.  
"I've pushed you away, I'm sorry. I know you want to protect me, to show me how much you care." Meg frowned, wishing she could express herself better. "I don't want this to end, me and you, this, us, talking. What we leave unsaid hurts worse. I want to try, I will try, if you will." She pushed forward, her eyes closed, saying what she needed to whether it made sense to her or not. It felt good to get it out in the air.  
"I will try, Meg."   
When she opened her eyes to see his face, Fraser was smiling.  
"We won't always agree on things, Fraser, I want us to be able to speak our minds and know that just because we may not agree, it doesn't mean that we aren't willing to listen or that we don't care about each other." Meg's heart raced as she let her thoughts spew. She knew that if she didn't say it that way, she never would and everything she'd been through would have been in vain.  
Fraser listened to what she was saying, his mind spinning, amazed at how open she was with him. If only she'd been this open all those years ago.  
"I understand, Meg. I am willing to work with you and for you." He reassured her, still smiling as he leaned them against the side of the building in the shadows.  
"I'm not easy to live with, Fraser." Meg started to protest but he put his index finger against her lips, silencing her. Quickly, Fraser leaned down and pressed a kiss against her lips. Meg closed her eyes and leaned against the building. She heard his Stetson hit the lathe board above her head and it slid backward onto the ground as he leaned to his right. The buttons on his uniform brushed Meg's blouse as he pressed closer. Meg found her arms slipping around his neck and her fingers running through his short, silky hair. When he pulled away he simply moved his kisses down her neck, his breath tickling her skin as he held her.  
"Benton!?" Maggie's voice brought both of them out of their private world and back to Spencer Falls. It was difficult to tell if it was a question or an exclaim.  
"Oh dear." Fraser muttered as he released Meg and stood up straight. "Maggie, hello, I, uh."   
She stood beneath a street light, her hand up to wave away his explanation. The younger Fraser had gone pale then blushed when she'd seen her brother, of all people, kissing in the dark. It just wasn't a sight she could comprehend to begin with.  
"I was just going up to the Inspector's apartment." Maggie turned and found the door leading up the stairs, disappearing as Meg and Benton tried to catch their breath.  
"I don't anticipate her saying anything at the post, do you?" Meg ran her fingers through her hair and readjusted her jacket and slacks.  
"No, Maggie will be discrete." Fraser shook his head, rolling his shoulder to one side. He picked his Stetson up and dusted it off.  
"I've caught people in this situation, but I never knew what they felt until now." Meg smiled, biting her bottom lip. Fraser nodded. He understood now why Maggie and Ray were always so happy. Benton extended his hand for Meg to take and together they walked up to her apartment.  
Maggie waited for them at the top of the steps, at Meg's front door. She had regained her composure. In a way it was good to see Benton doing something spontaneous for a change. It wasn't a secret that he had feelings for Meg Thatcher. Maggie was glad to see that she felt the same way for him.  
"Thank you for giving up time with your family, Constable Kowalski, I appreciate the sacrifice." Meg spoke as she unlocked her deadbolt and opened the door. She entered her security code and disarmed the system before motioning them inside. Maggie noticed the bars on the window and the presence of a knife stuck into the top of the front door frame.  
"I'm glad to be able to help, Inspector Thatcher. Please, call me Maggie when we're not at the post." She smiled openly as she surveyed the living room and kitchen area. "We're probably going to be sisters-in-law, I might as well get used to the sound of it." Maggie thought to herself.  
"Maggie, call me Meg. I'm afraid all there is for dinner is left overs, I hope you like chicken and rice." Meg shrugged, she hadn't gone to the store in a while, even though it was only a floor away.  
"That's fine, Insp-, ah, Meg." Maggie caught herself. She looked to Fraser who was standing back watching them together. He had a Mona Lisa smile on his face and his hands behind his back.  
"You remind me of our dad when you do that." Maggie came to stand at the bar separating the kitchen from the dining area where Meg stood looking into the refrigerator. Fraser stood near the front door.  
"Do what?" He shifted his weight.  
"Stand like that, that's the way he always stands," Her eyes widened when she realized she'd used the wrong verb tense. "in the pictures you've shown me of him." Maggie added quickly, praying that Meg hadn't caught on to her error.  
"I know what you mean." Benton smiled, he'd heard more of his father in himself since Ben had come to live with him than ever before. Fraser wasn't that much younger than his father at the time of his father's death. He prayed to live to a much riper old age than Robert Fraser.  
"Is there anything either of you need before I walk back to the cabin?" Fraser offered.  
"No, thank you, I've already been to the cabin." Maggie and Fraser turned to Meg for her answer.  
"I'm fine, thank you." She sat a glass bowl of chicken and rice on the stove.  
"Then if there's nothing else, I should be going." Fraser retrieved his Stetson and turned to walk out the front door.  
"Fraser, let me walk you out." Meg hurried to catch up. They disappeared out the front door together, leaving Maggie and Aurora in the apartment.  
"You shouldn't be out alone, Meg." Fraser admonished her as she hurried down the steps behind him. They stood the same height as she stood a step above him.  
"I wasn't planning on it, Fraser, I just wanted to give you this." The Inspector tipped his chin up and planted a quick kiss against his lips. Her eyes sparkled in the fluorescent light overhead when she opened them. Fraser stood there, still as a statue for a moment, his eyes closed. Then he smiled and opened his blue eyes. He kissed her quickly before turning and leaving. If he didn't make himself leave, Fraser knew he'd spend the night at Meg's apartment.  
"Be safe, Meg, I'll see you in the morning." He said as she watched him close the door behind himself.  
"You too, Benton, be careful."  
***


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Chapter 18  
The Next Morning …  
Ben arrived at the post early, he needed to get in touch with Nurse Zaman from the hospital. It didn't take long until he'd put a first name with a sir name- Hana.  
"Good morning, this is Constable Benton Fraser with the Spencer Falls post, I'm calling in regards to an Omar Bilal Zaman." The Mountie greeted the young woman on the other end of the line.  
"I'm sorry, Constable, but I don't know anyone by that name." Her voice rose slightly in pitch.  
"Miss Zaman, this is a very grave matter, we have reason to believe that Omar has attempted to assassinate an RCMP officer." Fraser spoke low into the phone as other officers moved around the main room working on various assignments.  
"I don't know who you think I am, Constable, but I don't know anyone by that name." The young woman's insistent tone only served to convince the experienced Mountie she was lying.  
"I believe your mother's name was Amina and her brother's name was Syed, they were killed in 2000 because they helped a Canadian woman." Fraser heard Hana gasp.  
"We need to meet, Constable, I'll be at the post in an hour." Hana hung the phone up abruptly.  
"Good morning, Constable Fraser, who was that on the phone?" Meg breezed into the post, a definite pep in her step. She wore her usual slacks suit but this one seemed a bit more planned than most days.  
"It was someone connected to Omar Zaman." Fraser hung the phone up and rose, his features worried.  
"Brief me in my office." Meg led the way back through the short hall, Diefenbaker getting up to follow her as well as Fraser. She closed the door behind them.  
"How is Ben this morning?" Meg asked before they got back to the subject of Omar Zaman.  
"He's well rested, he was asking about you this morning." Fraser smiled, touched at Meg's concern for his son.  
"He's a sweet kid, very much his father's son." Meg smiled warmly at him as she took her seat behind her desk. Fraser's smile broadened at the left handed compliment.  
"Thank you kindly." He sat leaning forward in the chair across the desk from Meg. He noted how easily she slipped her glasses on in front of him. Meg caught him watching her.  
"Who was on the phone a moment ago?" She hated to but they had business to attend to.  
"I believe it was Omar Zama's sister, Hana. I met her at the hospital yesterday when I went to see to Ben." Fraser watched as Meg turned from her computer screen to stare at him. Her face was ghostly pale, her dark eyes wide.  
"That's impossible, Fraser, I saw that little girl die." Meg set her glasses aside with a shuttering breath.  
"When I told her that I thought her mother was Amina and that her uncle was Syed she said she'd be here in an hour." The Mountie reached out to lay a reassuring hand on Meg's.  
"It can't be her, Fraser, it can't." Meg insisted. She'd seen the little girl shot, laying on the ground at her feet as the terrorist leader's gun hammered a bullet into her small body. The fear in Hana's eyes still haunted Meg.  
"We shall see in a little less than an hour. Do you feel up to speaking with her?" Fraser came around the desk, squatting at Meg's side. The Inspector shook her head, she could still see the little girl, blood covering her ragged, once pink dress, her long, dark hair across her face.  
"I don't know, Fraser. If it is Hana, I caused her so much pain, she won't want to see me. It's not fair of me to bring back such painful memories." Meg took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She used every tool she'd learned to prevent a flashback at the hospital all those years ago.  
"I believe that seeing this young woman may help you take a step toward healing even further." Fraser looked at her, his voice soothing and his gaze steady. "I'll be with you every step of the way, Meg." She felt him take her hand, gently squeezing her fingers.  
"I think I can then." She shrugged, her fears subsiding a bit.  
"Good, it's settled." Fraser pronounced confidently as he rose.   
Meg envied him his confidence. She didn't feel very much of it herself just then.  
McConaughey Mining Property ….   
Omar sat by his campfire, drinking coffee, his rifle laying in broken pieces around him as he cleaned them individually. Overhead the sky was clear and the air warm. Sounds of nature had lulled the young man to sleep only to be replaced by the sounds of his nightmares. He heard his mother screaming, his uncle cursing and the Canadian woman shouting at the men who had taken them. Suddenly his mother stopped screaming.  
"I'll never tell you anything now, she was an innocent woman, you may as well kill me too." That Canadian shrew spat venomously as Omar watched the terrorist pull an eight inch knife out of his mother's chest as she lay on her back beneath the unrelenting sun.  
"I will kill you, Thatcher, if it is the last thing I do." Omar shouted. He watched the terrorist kneel down and wipe the knife clean on his mother's dress. Her eyes stared blankly into the heavens above.  
"I'm sorry, Omar, they would have killed her no matter what I tell them." Meg had spoken through swollen lips, blood caking her face from wounds to her eyes and mouth. She'd been beaten until her whole face was red and purple. One of the guards had knocked her unconscious for biting him.  
"I will still kill you!" Omar woke up shouting just before dawn. He could see his mother's face as he came back to reality. "I will kill you, Thatcher." He vowed as he threw off his sleeping bag. Omar got on up and began his preparations for the day. Today would be the day of reckoning.  
Spencer Falls RCMP Post ….   
Hana pulled into a parking space in front of the post and stepped out of her car. She took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. She'd been looking for her older brother for the last two years. Hana was hard pressed to believe that she would find him like this, the subject of a manhunt. There had to be a mistake.  
Walking into the post, Hana looked around, intimidated by the officers going about their duties. Her gaze settled on the one in his red uniform, the only one in his red uniform. Hana remembered seeing him at the hospital the day before.  
"May I help you, Miss?" A young officer asked as she stared at the red clad figure studying a computer screen.  
"I spoke with a Constable Fraser earlier this morning." Hana told the fresh faced officer whose name tag read 'Hansen'. He seemed friendly and concerned.  
"I'll let him know you're here, Miss?" He hesitated.  
"Zaman." Hana answered. The young officer's face changed. He seemed surprised, then he seemed to go cold.  
"Constable Fraser, you have a visitor." Hansen stepped away, drawing the other Mountie's attention to the young woman.  
"Hello, Miss Zaman, have a seat, please." Fraser stood up, meeting her halfway across the room. He could see the fear in her dark eyes as she followed him.  
"How is it you came to call me this morning, Constable Fraser?" Hana perched on the edge of the seat, her dark eyes wide as she wrung her hands.  
"Zaman is a rare name in this area, it was logical to assume that you and Omar Zaman are relatives." Fraser didn't want to go into the case details until he was certain she was Omar's sister. He didn't hear the sound of Meg's heels behind him on the hardwood floor as she walked down the short hallway to peer into the main room. Hana saw the familiar figure behind Constable Fraser standing in the door way, her face pale and her hands shaking.  
"Ms. Thatcher, is it really you?" Hana stood, dropping her purse to the floor. By the time she rounded the desk Meg had retreated into her office.  
"Miss Zaman, a word please." Fraser's voice brought her back to the present.  
"Is that Ms. Thatcher, I always wondered what happened to her after I got away from the terrorists." Hana searched Fraser's face for the truth.  
"Yes, that is Margaret Thatcher, the woman you know from Iraq." Fraser answered straightforwardly.  
"She thought I was dead?" Hana thought aloud. No wonder the woman's face had looked like she saw a ghost. Hana saw her mother's image more in the mirror every day as she aged.  
"Yes, Inspector Thatcher was able to escape with Omar across the border into Jordan. She witnessed Amina and Syed's deaths and yours she thought until this morning." The Mountie informed her.  
"I was shot, but it was superficial. One of the younger guards had a sister my age in a village nearby. He took me there where a midwife was able to remove the bullet. When I was eleven I walked over the border and eventually made my way here, searching for Omar." Hana's eyes filled with tears.  
"Were you aware that your brother was in Spencer Falls?" Fraser asked, hoping she wasn't an accessory to his thefts and assassination attempts.  
"Yes, but he doesn't know I'm here, or that I'm alive. I've been here three months, a missionary in Israel told me that they had helped a young man fitting Omar's description move here recently." Hana explained. "It's been so long since I've seen Omar, he may not believe I am who I say I am, Constable Fraser, he has always been very stubborn."  
"We'll help you, one step at a time. If you'll wait here, I'll go in and speak with Inspector Thatcher." Fraser escorted the young woman back to a seat at the desk.  
"Yes, please tell her that I wish to speak to her, that I understand now what she was trying to do." Hana implored him. The Mountie nodded his understanding.  
Meg stood looking out the window behind the post when Fraser stepped inside her office. He could tell from the way her arms were crossed over her chest and the shaky way she breathed the lady Mountie was crying. Fraser closed the door behind himself and took a purposefully loud step toward her.  
"Fraser, is she Omar's sister, is she Hana?" Meg turned to speak, her face wet with tears.  
"Yes, I believe she is, are you alright, Meg?" He came to stand in front of her, wiping her tears away with his thumbs.  
"No, Fraser, I'll never be alright, not as long as Amina and Syed are dead, not as long as Alice isn't here." Meg shook her head, fresh tears streaming down her face.  
"Listen to me, the information that you smuggled out of Iraq was instrumental in saving so many other lives. You have lived a life that would have made Amina proud of you. I am proud of you." Fraser smiled, hoping she would see he was right. Meg put her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, a sob erupting from deep within. Benton held her close, his warm hand stroking her hair as she cried.  
"Shh, Meg, I know you're hurt, I can only imagine what you went through. Hana is out there waiting to see you, she said she understands what you were trying to do." Meg pulled away, looking up into his eyes. How could anyone understand what Meg was trying to do, she didn't understand it herself. Fraser pulled a clean handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her with a reassuring smile.  
"I hate crying in front of anyone, it's never just a simple cry, it's a wet, messy affair. I hate being the center of attention." Meg sighed, her emotions pulling her in twelve, opposite directions.  
"Red has always suited you." Fraser ran his index finger down her nose with a playful smile. All Meg could do was chuckle. Only he would think she was beautiful with a puffy, snotty face.  
"You are still too good to be true, and rather hopeless, Benton Fraser." Meg shrugged, drying her face.  
"It's too late to change now." He smiled, one of his room lightening smiles that made the worst shadows flee.  
"Ask Hana to my office please, I'll just be fixing my face." Meg put the hanky in her pocket. Fraser simply nodded and walked back to the main room.  
***


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Chapter 19 Reunion  
The Post …  
Hana walked into the Inspector's office, tears still threatening to fall from her obsidian eyes. Behind the desk sat the woman she'd first met fourteen years ago as a little girl.  
"Hana, is that you, oh, you look so much like Amina." Meg met her halfway across the room, her arms open.  
"Ms. Meg," Hana embraced her warmly. It felt good to see someone from her old life.  
"I've never heard you speak until now." Meg held her at arm's length to look at her better.  
"A lot has changed, the whole world has changed." Hana took one of the seats in front of Meg's desk while Meg took the other.  
"I never thought I'd see you again, I saw them shoot you." Meg spoke with a shuttering breath.  
"One of the guards took me to a nearby village, he saved my life." Hana answered, searching Meg's pained face. She saw the old ghosts behind the Mountie's dark eyes.  
"I'm so sorry, can you ever forgive me?" Meg's voice broke. She'd longed to say those words to Amina, Syed, Omar and Hana for so long.  
"I forgive you, I know you were trying to help save the world." Hana smiled, fresh tears streaming.  
"I didn't do anything to save the world, Hana, I cost you your family." Meg shrugged, taking a deep breath, trying not to cry again.  
"My mother had great faith in you, Ms. Meg, she admired you for your courage. She wanted me to grow up to be like you, strong and confident. I'm a nurse now, I want to help people like you helped my mother. I realized her dream for me, because of you. It may not have happened the way she planned it but it happened just the same." Hana held Meg's hands as they shook.  
"You and your husband have helped so many people." Hana turned to Fraser, who blushed to match his uniform.  
"Oh, he's not my husband," Meg turned to look at him as he stood silently watching. "He's my best friend." She smiled, hope rising within her. Fraser had been right, Amina would be proud of her.  
"I'm sorry, I saw the way you look at each other and I assumed." Hana looked from Meg to Fraser and back again. She'd assumed they were in love and she'd been right.  
"It's alright, it's a long and complicated story for another time." Meg turned back to Hana. "Right now you and I have a lot of catching up to do."  
"Omar." Hana said the one word sadly.  
"Yes, Omar." Meg nodded, taking the Kleenex box off her desk and handing it to the young woman.  
"I don't know anything about Omar, I only found out he was in Canada three months ago. I've been trying to track him down for the last two years. It wasn't until Constable Fraser mentioned him that I knew for certain he was in Spencer Falls." Hana's dark eyes pleaded with Meg to believe her.  
"Do you know where he might be now?" Fraser asked, speaking for the first time.  
"I heard that he was working for a mining company in the area, that's all." Hana turned to him. "What has my brother done that you are looking for him?" She feared the bitterness in his heart she'd seen as a little girl had consumed him.  
"All we know for certain is that he's responsible for the theft of catalytic converters from McConaughey Mining Company trucks." Fraser answered. He didn't want Meg to be the one to tell the young woman her brother was a thief.  
"There's more, isn't there, your haven't told me the whole story." Hana pushed, wanting to understand what was happening.  
"I have reason to believe someone is trying to kill me, I was ran off the road by a large truck, my food was poisoned and my brake lines were cut. Earlier this week someone tried to ambush Constable Fraser and me on our way back from Camp Cumberbatch." Meg shuttered to think of that day. "I've seen the kind of tactics used to ambush us before." The Mountie met Hana's eyes. They had both seen those kind of tactics before.  
"They used the same methods as the men who killed my father; a spike strip and a long range rifle?" Hana's eyes widened, she'd been in the vehicle the day her father had been killed, she'd hidden under his dead body until her mother had found them.  
"Yes, exactly." Meg shook her head.  
A tap on the door brought the reunion to a halt. Meg and Fraser exchanged meaningful glances.  
"Enter!" Meg called, gathering herself back into Inspector Thatcher. Constable Wilder peeped his head into the office.  
"Sir, there's been a sighting of the suspect." He knew he needed say no more from the look on his boss' face.  
"Thank you, Constable Wilder." Meg stood up, straightening her jacket around her hips.  
"You should stay here at the post, Miss Zaman, until this is resolved." Fraser recommended. She simply nodded.  
In the post's main room, Meg had taken the report of Omar's appearance. He'd been spotted by Doug Ward, McConaughey Mining's foreman. Mr. Ward had been on a surveying trip with another employee when he saw Omar's camp and evidence of bomb making in the camp. He'd called it in immediately.  
Meg assembled her troops in the main room. Evidence of bomb making gave her the leeway she needed to tell them what had been happening and that Omar Zaman was a dangerous young man who would not be apprehended without a fight. The seven officers in the main room geared up with bullet proof vests, helmets and assault rifles.  
"Omar Zaman is traveling on a dirt bike, which means he is highly mobile and agile. Be extremely careful, he's motivated as well as extremely intelligent." Meg warned her officers. "I and Constable Kowalski will be here at the post to coordinate efforts." Meg sent her officers on their way into the community.  
"Maggie hasn't arrived yet for her shift." Fraser reminded Meg.  
"I know, I'm getting ready to call her right now, do you know where she would be just now?" She picked up the phone and began dialing Maggie's number.  
"She and Ray were going to take Ben back to camp this morning after breakfast at the dinner." Fraser hated to think that Ben was anywhere near such a dangerous criminal, but he knew he couldn't be in better hands than Ray and Maggie's. Aurora would lay down her life for the boy as well.  
"I'll call Dinah's and see if she's still there." Meg dialed the familiar number after leaving a voice mail for Maggie.  
"Hey, Sabrina, is one of my officers there with a blonde American guy and a boy?" Meg asked, realizing how silly the question sounded over the phone.  
"Yes, do you want to talk to her, Meg?" Sabrina, the waitress who'd eyed Fraser asked.  
"Thank you, yes." Meg waited until Sabrina put Maggie on the phone.  
"Constable Kowalski, there's been a sighting of Omar Zaman, I need you to report to the post immediately." Meg put her hand over the phone receiver, "Fraser, Ray and Ben can stay in my apartment until this is over if you'd like." She offered. Benton nodded, relieved to know that his son would be watched after somewhere so close.  
"Yes, Inspector, I'll be right there." Maggie answered.  
"Oh, Constable, Fraser and I agree, Ben and Ray should stay at my apartment until further notice, my security code is Fraser's birthday," Meg gave him an embarrassed smile, "and Sabrina has a spare key to the top door."  
"I'll tell them, Inspector Thatcher." Maggie felt relieved to know her nephew would be safe as well.  
"Thank you, Constable Kowalski." Meg's voice took on a softer note.  
"You're welcome, Inspector." Maggie responded.  
Meg turned to Fraser, she hated to but she had to send him into the field.  
"Fraser, you and Wilder should get out there. I gave them the authorization to take a lethal shot if provoked, but I don't want Omar dead. He's as much a victim here as I am, or Hana." Meg confided in Fraser. "You have to find him first."  
"I'll try, Inspector, I want you to stay here at the post." Fraser leaned closer, "I want you to be safe."  
Meg smiled, "I will be." She watched as Fraser left the post. He turned to look back at her as she stood on the front stoop. Meg saw Fraser's quirky smile pull at the corner of his mouth. She smiled back, allowing herself to wave at him, watching the vehicle until it drove out of sight.  
***  
Omar had been watching the post since just after dawn; the comings and the goings. He'd seen Meg Thatcher walk into her office, he saw the young woman walk into the office after her, and the Mountie that had engineered their escape from his ambush. Omar knew that if he was patient, he would catch Meg Thatcher alone, then he would seize his chance at retribution. When the RCMP Jeep with the smart Mountie pulled out after all the others, Omar began moving in closer to the post. It was just Meg Thatcher and the young woman in the office now. The thoughts of seeing Meg dead moved him onward.  
***  
"Ray, why did Dad and Inspector Thatcher want us to stay here?" Ben asked as he sat down on Meg's couch. It seemed strange to be in her apartment without her being there.  
"They don't want this psycho coming after you, that's all." Ray answered, rummaging through Meg's kitchen cabinets.  
"I don't think the Inspector would want you going through her spatula drawer, Uncle Ray." Ben said as he sat on the couch, his fingers laced behind his head.  
"Ah, I'm nosy, old habits die hard." Ray closed the drawer with her extra batteries and random recipe index cards.  
"Does Dad love Inspector Thatcher, Uncle Ray?" Ben sighed, wondering what would happen in his life next. He wondered if his dad married Meg Thatcher if they'd have another child.  
"Yeah, he loves her, why, does it bother you?" Ray left his snooping to talk to Ben.  
"No, it doesn't bother me, I like Inspector Thatcher. He's just so quiet and private about that kind of stuff. He doesn't talk about my mom much. They must have had something good together, I'm here." The boy shrugged. He wondered what his parents were like face to face once upon a time.  
"I know Fraser loved her in his way, he wanted to help Victoria." Ray didn't know what to say about those days, they'd been before his time.  
"I know, that's just what he does. I can't imagine Dad and Mom going on a date, like you and Aunt Maggie."  
"Benny'd be all stiff and proper, six forks on the table and he knows how to use every one of 'em." Ray snickered.  
"Yeah, how does he know all that stuff?" Ben shook his head. Fraser knew more about American History than his teacher in school, even if he did tell it from a slightly biased, Canadian point of view.  
"Beats me, Fraser's the smartest guy I know, next to Maggie." Ray gave a megawatt smile. Ben let it go, of course he'd think Maggie was the smartest.  
"Dad reads like you play video games, he can finish a book in two days." Ben thought back to the first time he and his dad had gone to the library. Fraser had assisted four people with their questions at the desk and told the librarian her Dewey Decimal System was off in the Sociology section. The librarian had nearly swooned when Fraser had checked out Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.  
"Yeah, I know, you'll never have to worry about him goin' forgetful, slippin' and stuff, Fraser's as sharp as they come." Ray chuckled.  
The pair talked for a while longer, trading stories and comparing notes on their favorite Mounties. Ben felt lucky to have his family, such as it was.  
***


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Chapter 20 Showdown  
On the Hunt …  
"Constable Hansen, where are you heading at such an increased rate of speed?" Wilder asked over the radio as he and Fraser met him driving an RCMP Jeep like a bat out of hell.  
"There was a sighting of a dirt bike just outside of Spencer Falls, the witness said the young man had a rifle strapped across his back. We believe it to be Omar Zaman, and we're heading to the post now." Hansen's voice was sharp and high as he relayed the message over the radio.  
"Understood, will follow." Constable Wilder turned the four wheel drive around and followed Hansen back toward the post.  
"Omar revealed himself to draw us away from the post, he knew Inspector Thatcher would stay behind to coordinate the operation." Fraser spoke as he hung onto the safety bars.  
"And we've played right into his hands." Wilder gritted his teeth. He might not like the Inspector all the time, but she was a good officer and he was proud to have served with her.  
Fraser wasn't about to let anything happen to Meg. He'd just found her again, they had both finally gotten past their relationship fears enough to be honest with each other. A knot began forming in the pit of his stomach as he thought about her being in danger. He'd felt the same way when Ben had been kidnapped the year before.  
"Fraser to post, respond post." Fraser radioed, wanting desperately to hear Meg's voice.  
"Post here." Maggie's voice greeted him.  
"Post, we have visual on the base, what is your status?" Fraser spoke as he saw the small building come into view. All the rest of the officers and their vehicles sat surrounding the post.  
"Fraser, we are …." Maggie didn't finish her sentence. Fraser heard her groan then go silent. In the background he heard Aurora bark then a hurt yelp.  
"He's in the post." The Jeep skidded to a halt at the side of the building. Fraser wished Ray were with him to back him up but he was more relieved that the American detective was guarding his son. The Mountie determined to go in and protect Ray's most precious person, Maggie, for him.  
Fraser walked quietly into the post. Every Mountie on duty was backed up to the wall. Maggie lay unconscious on the floor behind the desk, the radio transmitter still in her hand. She was breathing. Aurora lay on the floor beside her, blood matting her fur from a gunshot wound. In the center of the main room stood a young man, a hand gun to Meg's head and a rifle strapped across his back. Fraser recognized him as the young man from the surveillance footage. Hana stood on the other side, her lip split and terror in her eyes.  
"Stop there." Omar shouted, pressing the handgun muzzle harder against Meg's temple. Fraser saw the terror in her dark brown eyes. Fraser nodded as he took a step backward.  
"Don't do anything, Mountie, or your woman is dead." The young man threatened.   
Meg took a deep breath, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks.  
"If you had actually wanted her dead, Omar, you would simply have walked up to the windows in the rear of the building and put a bullet through the back of her skull." Fraser stood his ground, his eyes going from the young man to Meg. She looked at him, shocked at the calm tone in his voice.  
"I want to hear her say she's guilty first." Omar jerked Meg's arm up. He stood a bit talker than her, lean bodied and dark, haunted eyes.  
"Omar, let this go, this won't bring our family back." Hana begged her brother. She saw the same bitter little boy from so long ago.  
"I am guilty, Omar. It's my fault your mother, sister and uncle were killed." Meg confessed. She breathed hard.  
"Don't speak, both of you would say anything to get me to release you." Omar tightened his grip on Meg's arm.  
"I live every day with what happened in the terrorists' camp. I wake up screaming at night, terrified again, seeing them shoot Amina, repeatedly." Meg's voice cracked. She was trembling.  
"I wake up the same way." Omar relaxed his grip. His dark eyes looked into the distance, back to the darkest days of his life.  
"Omar, no one has to die today." Fraser pointed out, trying to make him see reason.  
"I have already died, when I was nine years old. Every day since then I have lived as a dead man without my family." Omar shouted. The Mounties surrounding him edged closer.  
"You weren't the only one to lose family that day. When I got back I lost my baby, a little girl, her name was Alice." Meg choked out.  
"Your baby was better off, she never knew her mother to be the devious, heartless bitch you are." Omar hissed into Meg's ear.  
"This isn't how our mother would have wanted you to be, Brother, this is senseless." Hana faced him, hoping her brother was still in there somewhere.  
"From what the Inspector told me of your mother, she was a peaceful woman who wanted to help her children." Fraser spoke, hands in the air.   
"Your precious Inspector Thatcher is a murdering whore." Omar charged venomously.  
"Inspector Thatcher is no such thing." Constable Hansen charged, stepping up, his weapon drawn. The young officer's hero worship clouded his judgment. Omar tightened his grip again, moving the hand gun from Hansen to Meg's head. Every officer in the room tensed.  
"Hansen, stand down." Fraser held his arm out to reign the younger officer in.  
"Inspector Thatcher has done nothing but help Spencer Falls. She's saved so many families from falling into Ambrose McConaughey's clutches. She's saved more lives than anyone." Hansen answered, only making the situation worse. "She saved my life, she was there the night my mother died, she took me aside and told me it was over." The young Mountie's hands shook so badly his gun rattled. He wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. A white wolf silently crept into the hall leading into the main room from Meg' office. The Mounties standing around the room looked at each other, wondering about him.  
"Constable Hansen, I said stand down." Fraser repeated himself. If Hansen moved much more the veteran Mountie fully intended to slug him. Hansen blinked a few times, finally coming out of his reverie. He stepped back into line against the wall.  
"Everyone out, or I will kill her." Omar growled, pushing the gun into Meg's skin until her head was nearly laying against her shoulder.  
"Go on, everyone out." Meg ordered. She didn't want to see any of her officers hurt, especially Fraser.  
"You as well." Omar shook his gun toward Fraser then toward Hana. The Mountie raised his hands, looking at Dief, who had gotten into position to pounce. With Fraser's signal, Dief lunged toward the gun, latching onto Omar's arm. Fraser stepped across the few feet between them and grabbed the young man's arm. The handgun fell to the floor and Meg pulled out of Omar's grip. She headed for the handgun on the floor. Omar came across with his left, grazing Fraser's cheek. Meg landed on her back, pointing the gun up at Omar. Fraser stumbled back enough for Omar to pull his sniper rifle into play. All three stopped in their tracks.  
"I may die today, but I will but a bullet where it counts." Omar trained the gun at Meg. Just as he squeezed the trigger, Dief charged again. The wolf hit Omar in the back. Meg managed to fire a round at nearly the same moment. Fraser heard a scream and saw the young man slump to the floor.  
"Fraser, I'm hit." Meg's voice made the Mountie's blood run cold. He knelt on the floor beside her, pulling out his handkerchief and pressing it to a bleeding wound in Meg's left side. Hana rushed to the injured woman, her eyes full of tears as she took off her jacket and began using it as a pillow behind her head. Fraser didn't look up, his eyes locked on Meg's paling face.  
"Fraser, I have to tell you something." She looked up at him, fear and pain contorting her features.  
"Shh, Meg, it can wait until you're better." He applied pressure to the wound, his hands covered in her blood.  
"No, now, Fraser." She tried to smile but couldn't. "I just wanted to say I love you, always." She struggled to breathe, to stay awake and alive.  
"Meg, stay with me, just stay with me." A sickening lump formed in the pit of Fraser's stomach.  
"Constable Fraser, they've got an ambulance on the way and a helicopter." Wilder knelt down on the other side of Meg. The Mountie just nodded.  
"You're going to be alright, Meg, help is on the way." He saw her begin to slip away. "Meg, don't go, stay and fight. Fight for me, Meg, don't take the easy way out again and leave me." Benton leaned even farther down talking into her ear.  
"Leaving wasn't easy." Meg managed, her brown eyes meeting his. Two first responders came through the door, one guiding a gurney.  
"I'll take over, Constable." The more senior of the two laid a reassuring hand on Fraser's shoulder. The other knelt down in the spot Hana had just vacated and started to work. Hana and the senior responder pulled Fraser to his feet. Maggie began to come around. She'd been hit from behind. Fraser helped her to his feet, his own legs beginning to weaken as they worked on Meg, trying to stem the flow of blood.  
"Fraser, Aurora, she's hurt." Maggie found her furry companion lying on the floor panting, blood pooling around her. Dief whined at his daughter's side.  
"Sir, I've called for a second ambulance, we'll have the wolf taken in for treatment." Constable Wilder spoke softly as Maggie knelt down to tend to Aurora's wounds.  
"Let's get her to the helicopter, guys, rush." The senior responder hollered as they lifted Meg onto the gurney. Fraser walked them out to the front porch. He couldn't watch them work on Meg. His stomach churned just thinking about her lying there so helpless. Another set of responders brought in a body bag for Omar.  
"She's tough, Fraser, she'll be barking orders again in no time." Constable Wilder assured his superior officer. Fraser nodded. A third set of responders took Aurora out through the front door.  
"Are you alright, Benton?" He took a deep breath to calm his stomach  
"Yeah, Maggie, I'm fine. Are you okay?" She looked down at all the blood covering his hands and his tunic. There was so much of it.  
"It's her blood." Fraser answered, a shuttering breath erupting from his chest.  
"Let's get you cleaned up." Maggie led Benton around the post to the back where they kept a water hose and turned it on for him to wash the blood from his hands.  
"She's fought so hard already, Maggie." Benton said after a few minutes. He was pale; paler than Maggie had ever seen him before.  
"She's strong, Benton, Inspector Thatcher will be alright. She's a fighter, she knows you're waiting for her." Maggie looked her brother in the eye. He knew she wouldn't tell him something like that if she didn't believe it to be true.  
"I won't lose her again." Fraser thought to himself as he tried to wash away the blood on his hands. The sight of it made him retch. He headed around the corner, pulling at his lanyard and buttons as he went. Fraser leaned against the side of the post, panting as he pulled his red serge loose.  
"Constable Fraser, the Inspector's asking for you." Wilder's voice called out from around the corner where Maggie stood silently. Fraser rounded the corner, pale and unsteady. He took a deep breath, collecting himself.  
"Thank you kindly, Constable Wilder." The Mountie responded. Dief was on the officer's heels. Dief trotted forward, making a pest of himself, trying to figure out why his human was so upset. Fraser stroked the wolf's ears, distracted with his own thoughts as he made his way to the ambulance.  
"Meg," He called to her as they loaded into the back of the ambulance.  
"Sorry, Constable, the sooner we get her in the air, the better she'll be." The senior responder lifted the foot of the gurney into the waiting ambulance.  
"Where are you taking her?" Fraser asked, his mind racing.  
"Yellow Knife as far as I know." The responder answered. Maggie walked up to the ambulance, her face full of concern. Fraser wasn't one to wear his emotions on his face or his sleeve. When the world was falling apart, he was the one standing tall in the face of a crisis.  
"Benton, I'll drive if you want to go." Maggie offered. She saw him nod. He was finally coming back to the Fraser that everyone knew and counted on.  
"I need to check on Ben." Fraser shook his head, his first priority being his son. Maggie pulled out her phone and dialed Ray. She took a few minutes to fill him in on what had just happened. Ben's first question had been about Meg's welfare.  
"Is Inspector Thatcher going to be alright, Dad?" He sounded almost afraid.  
"I don't know, Son, I'm coming to get you in a moment, we'll go to the hospital later." Fraser wanted to hug his son and make certain the boy was safe for himself.  
"I'm okay, really, Dad, go to the hospital. I would want you to go if it were Mom or Aunt Maggie or Uncle Ray. I know Inspector Thatcher is important to you." Ben pointed out.   
Fraser didn't care if he was fourteen or not, he wanted to pull him into a hug, more proud of his son than he could express.  
"I'm lucky to have you." Fraser whispered, taking Maggie's hand for a moment and squeezing her fingers gently. He felt loved, a rare and new thing to the ole' Mountie.  
"I'll take care of Ben, you need to get on the road." Ray said from the background as Ben pulled away.  
"We'll pray for Inspector Thatcher, Dad." Ben offered.  
"Thank you, Ben." Fraser told his son he love him before leaving to find Ray and Constable Wilder.  
***


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Chapter 21 Morse Code  
The Hospital …  
Fraser and Wilder arrived almost an hour after the helicopter touched down with Meg. They rushed into the emergency room, both of them wide eyed.  
"Hey, excuse me, there was an RCMP officer flown in from Spencer Falls, how is she?" Wilder asked a gray haired nurse behind the desk.  
"Are you the next of kin?" The nurse asked, her hand on one hip as she studied the two men in front of her.  
"Inspector Thatcher doesn't have any family in Spencer Falls." Fraser volunteered, wracking his brain to remember if she mentioned any cousins or other family elsewhere.  
"Then I'm afraid you'll have to wait until we can notify the next of kin." The nurse adjusted her scrubs. She'd worked the ER for the last twenty-five years. No one got past her.  
Ray walked up to the desk behind Wilder and Fraser, winded from running from the far side of the parking lot.  
"What is it?" Ray asked, having missed the conversation, "Nurse Cratchet here won't give us any information on the Inspector?" Ray shrugged, annoyed. They simply wanted to know if Thatcher was alive or dead.  
"Where is Ben?" Fraser asked when he saw that his brother-in-law was alone.  
"He's taking care of Maggie, she got a real doosey of a bump on the back of her head. Hansen is going to babysit them for us." Ray shrugged.  
"Let me make a call to the post, next of kin should be in her personnel file." Wilder's eyes twinkled. He knew who the emergency contact was already.  
"May I use your phone nurse?" Wilder asked sweetly. The older nurse pursed her lips as she looked at the young man standing before her. He seemed innocent enough.  
"Yes, but keep it short." She wagged her finger at him with one hand and handed him the receiver with the other.  
"Thank you kindly, Nurse." Wilder dialed and waited for someone to answer.  
"Constable Wilder, hello, I need you to pull the Inspector's personnel file and see who her emergency contact person is, please." Wilder smiled at his colleagues. Ray raised one eyebrow. He smelled something fishy.  
"What is the fax number here, please?" Wilder asked the nurse. The shrew of a nurse wrote the number down and handed it to him. Fraser and Ray watched, puzzled.  
"Here's the number for you to fax the information to, Constable Hansen." Wilder thanked her and hung up.  
"You should be getting a fax in the next few minutes." Wilder informed the nurse with a sly smile.  
"What's this all about?" Ray stepped up to Wilder, his hands on his hips.  
"Patience, please. Inspector Thatcher and I haven't always seen eye to eye. I respect her but she keeps a lot of information close to the vest. I had to know more about her." As Wilder spoke they heard the fax machine behind the nurses' station begin printing. The nurse picked up the page and began reading.  
"Emergency contact, Constable Benton Fraser, Canadian Consulate, Chicago, Illinois." The nurse read aloud. She looked up at Fraser, a dry expression on her face. "I take it you're Constable Fraser?" She sighed.  
"Yes, how is the Inspector?" Fraser asked anxiously. The nurse typed in a Meg's name to check her status.  
"Inspector Thatcher is in surgery as we speak. If you'll have a seat in the waiting room, I'll contact you when she arrives in recovery." The nurse's tone had changed.  
"How did you know Fraser was Thatcher's contact person?" Ray asked the younger Mountie.  
"I'm not proud of it, but I found it while I was investigating her. I also know that he's the sole beneficiary in her will." Wilder said in a conspiratorial tone. Ray's eyes widened.  
"Wow, she must have it bad for him." Was all the retired American detective could say. Wilder simply nodded.  
Eight PM ….  
Meg was wheeled into recovery a few minutes after eight that evening. She'd sustained a gunshot wound just shy of her heart and lung. The doctors shared her prognosis with Fraser, which sounded warily optimistic. He walked back out to the waiting room, his features grave. Ray couldn't tell if it were good news or bad from his friend's expression.  
"How is she, Fraser, how's the Inspector?" Ray handed his old friend a cup of coffee as they took a seat in the pastel clad waiting room.  
"Inspector Thatcher is going to be alright. It will take some time for her to recover. Have you talked to Maggie?" Fraser switched the subject. He wanted to get the image of Meg out of his head. It was difficult to see her in that hospital bed, so pale, with monitors and tubes running in and out of her. She seemed so frail.  
"Yeah, she and Ben are headed back to the cabin for tonight. Maggie asked about Thatcher." Ray toyed with his coffee cup as he tried to remember talking to his wife.  
"I'll call her in a few minutes, I want to talk to Ben before he goes to bed." Fraser leaned his head against the wall, both hands over his face as if trying to block out the day's events.  
"I can only imagine what you're going through, buddy." Ray leaned back too. He knew he'd go completely crazy if anything ever happened to Maggie. Once upon a time he'd felt the same way about Stella. Maggie wasn't Stella and vice versa. Ray didn't feel like the same man he'd been with Stella.  
"Inspector Thatcher most likely won't be taking back command of Spencer Falls after recovery." Fraser said almost to himself.  
"Is it that bad?" Ray leaned forward, looking over at his unofficial partner.  
"No, I'm going to ask her not to." Fraser said resolutely. Ray's eyes nearly popped out of his head.  
"You going to ask her to marry you, Fraser?" The wiry former detective grinned from ear to ear.  
"No, Ray, it's too soon for that." His lack of elaboration got Ray going.  
"Then what? Are you going to move back here or something?" Ray had a thousand questions.  
"I thought perhaps Inspector Thatcher would take another consulate posting in the States, something closer than Spencer Falls." Fraser finally answered something that made sense to Ray.  
"Do you think she'll go for it, I mean she's been at the post for the last eight years, that's a while."  
"I don't know, Ray." Fraser sighed, his mind still swirling with possibilities.  
"All I know to say is good luck, buddy. Look how long it took me and Maggie to get it right." Both of them had wanted to pursue their careers and had for over a decade.  
"And we started in our thirties." Ray pointed out after a long moment.  
"Ben is at the top of my priorities. I believe Inspector Thatcher agrees with that. Right now there are a lot of other things to consider before she recovers." Fraser stood up, pacing the small room. He'd been in two hospitals in one day. It had been a long, stressful day. The shrew nurse walked into the waiting room, a hitch in her step from sore, aching feet.  
"Constable Fraser, she's asking for you."  
Fraser followed the nurse to the private room they'd assigned Meg. For a moment he thought she'd gone back to sleep. When she heard his heavy foot falls, Meg's eyes flew open and her hand raised for him to take.  
"Don't be long, she needs to rest as much as possible." The nurse warned Fraser with one, bony finger wagging at him. The Mountie nodded in understanding.  
Meg squeezed Fraser's hand gently as he leaned forward to lay a kiss on her forehead.  
"How are you feeling?" He asked just above a whisper. She pulled her hand away and began tapping her knuckle on the bed rails. Fraser immediately recognized her Morse code.  
"Fine. What happened to Omar? How is Hana?" Meg asked, her eyes concerned.  
"The shot was fatal, Meg. One of Hana's friends came to stay with her." Fraser answered after a hesitation. He didn't know how she would react to the truth but he couldn't make himself lie to her. Tears welled up in her dark eyes.  
"Never meant to kill him." She tapped out. Fraser noted the rise in her heart rate and respiration on the monitors.  
"He made a choice, Meg. Choices come with consequences." Fraser traced her cheek with the back of his hand.  
"All my fault." Meg tapped out quickly.  
"I was there to protect you and I didn't." Fraser shook his head.  
"No, my bad choices." She insisted. The Mountie saw the sharp rise in her heart rate. It was time to quit this conversation, before it caused her more damage.  
"Let's talk about it later, alright. Everyone at the post is asking about you." Fraser changed the subject. He saw Meg narrow her gaze at him, her lips pursing. He smiled. The door behind him opened and the nurse entered.  
"Sorry, Constable Fraser, but it's time to be going." She checked on Meg's vital signs and urged him out.  
"I love you." Meg tapped out on the bed rail. Her gaze lingered on his blue eyes. She wouldn't mind it if he were the last thing she saw in life.  
"I love you too, Meg." Fraser whispered as he pressed a kiss against her cheek. As he was walking out of the room she waved. It felt good to tell her that face to face and to hear it back, such as Morse code is.  
***


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Chapter 22 Home from the Hospital  
Six weeks later …  
"Hey, Dad, when do we leave tomorrow to pick the Inspector up from the hospital?" Ben asked as he helped Ray and Maggie carry their suitcases to the RCMP Jeep.  
"After lunch." Fraser answered, carrying Ray's bag while the Detective carried Aurora to the rear hatch.  
"I bet she's ready to be out of there." The boy hefted the backpack Maggie preferred into the back seat of the red, four wheel drive.  
"Yes, the Inspector is quite anxious to be out of the hospital." Fraser agreed, thinking back to their phone conversation of the night before. Meg had growled at a nurse who'd stuck a cold stethoscope to her back.  
"I'd say you're just as anxious, aren't you, buddy." Ray teased as he slapped his old friend on the back heartily. Fraser simply raised one eyebrow as if he'd never tell.  
"I hate to leave, Benton, but my post is calling and Ray has to go back to the security firm." Maggie came around the end of the vehicle sitting in front of the cabin and hugged her brother.  
"I'll talk to you soon, Maggie." Fraser responded before she went on to hug Ben.  
"I love you, Aunt Maggie, I'll talk to you later." Ben hugged his aunt. He was nearly two inches taller than her.  
"I love you too, Ben, take care of your dad for me." Maggie ruffled the boy's hair before getting into the driver's seat of the vehicle.  
"Ray, take care." Fraser shook hands with his old friend. The blond, former detective pulled him into a quick man-hug before turning loose.  
"You take care, I'm not there to watch your ass anymore." Ray cautioned him then smiled broadly. Fraser shook his head.  
"Ben, watch after your old man, okay." Ray hugged his nephew quickly before turning loose.  
"I will, Uncle Ray, take care of Aunt Maggie and Aurora." The boy missed his aunt and her gentle wisdom.  
"Not a problem, kiddo, not a problem." Ray shook the boy's hand before getting into the Jeep's back seat.   
Diefenbaker barked his good-byes. Ben and Fraser watched them pull away, off toward the air field, toward home.  
"I've had fun this summer, but I do feel bad about Inspector Thatcher's friend and her wound." Ben said as he knelt down to scratch Dief behind the ears and along the neck.  
"I'm glad you were able to come, Son." Fraser said as he straightened his Stetson. "We should be getting to the post, Officer Wilder will be expecting us." The Mountie made sure the door to the cabin was secure and they started down the road toward the post.  
"George Daniels said I could go fishing with them today if I wanted, he's coming into town later." Ben kicked at a large rock, sending it across the cement walkway. When he neared it he kicked it again.  
"You may go if you like, but you are just as welcome to stay at the post with me today." Fraser offered, giving his son a choice. Ben walked silently for a moment, deep in thought.  
"I'll stay with you and Dief." He smiled, thinking about seeing the Mounties at work.  
"I'll be glad to have you at the post." Fraser nodded resolutely. He enjoyed his son's company and wanted to make the most of the childhood he had left with him.  
"Will you tell me the story of the Musical Ride again?" Ben grinned, "This time telling exactly how you sheared your Stetson's top off?"   
Benton elbowed the boy for his mischievous question. Only recently had he told how he and Meg had been on the top of the train.  
"There are many other stories to be told, I'll tell that one some other time." Fraser toyed with one of his uniform buttons.  
"I just can't imagine you kissing a girl, Dad." Ben wrinkled his nose. Fraser swept his thumbnail over his eyebrow.  
"Such notions." The Mountie waved his son's teasing away.  
The Hospital …  
Meg longed to be out of the hospital and back in her own apartment. She hated being woken up every few hours to have her vital signs checked, she hated the food and the not knowing what was going on at the post. Visiting hours with Fraser just weren't enough to keep her mind off what had happened. Omar's death had caused her more nightmares and a few panic attacks.  
Ben was a bright spot to the Inspector. She enjoyed talking to him and seeing the boy. He was smart and funny with a good heart. Seeing him made Meg love Benton more. She only wished that she would have gotten to raise Alice with Fraser. She wondered what her little girl would have looked like every time she looked at Ben.  
When the phone rang during lunch, Meg answered it on the first ring. She'd longed to hear Benton's voice.  
"Hello, Benton." She spoke into the small cell phone.  
"Meg, how are you?"   
Meg smiled when she heard him say her name. She knew that he was somewhere outside the post. "I'm better now, I can't wait until you arrive." Meg ran her fingers through her hair as she talked.  
"We're leaving the post as we speak." Fraser wished he could fly to her, take her away with him.  
"I'll be ready to go when you get here." Meg held down the urge to giggle. She felt almost giddy at the idea of getting to go home.  
"Your officers will be pleased to see you again, there's been mention of cake and ice cream." It was supposed to be a surprise but Fraser knew Meg didn't really like surprises.  
"I need cake and ice cream like a hole in the head, I won't be able to wear a thing in my closet." Meg fussed. She'd been stuck in the hospital for the last month and a half, doing nothing. It felt like time to stretch her legs.  
"I'm glad that you're safe and recovering." The voice that Meg hoped to hear more of reassured her that no matter what happened, he'd be there for her.  
"I'm glad you're coming to pick me up." She answered. They said good-bye and Meg was left to gather her things.  
***  
Fraser tapped on the hospital door before poking his head through the opening. Meg sat on the side of the bed, looking out the window. The warm, yellow glow silhouetted her, bathing her in light. Fraser stood and drank in the image. Her white blouse and dark hair against the summer light was exquisite. Hearing his boots on the tile floor, Meg turned to catch him watching her. She smiled, standing up, her back to the light. He thought to himself how she looked like an angel.  
"Fraser, come in." Meg beckoned him further in the room. Ben stepped in beside his dad, a yellow rose in hand.  
"Inspector Thatcher, hello." The Mountie greeted her, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.  
"We thought you might like this." Ben handed Meg the single rose. "Dad told me yellow roses mean friendship."  
"Thank you both, that was thoughtful, it's beautiful." Meg took it, admiring it before giving the boy a quick hug. She didn't know how to thank Fraser, she couldn't very well kiss him like she wanted and a handshake just wouldn't do.  
"It was very thoughtful, Fraser, thank you." Meg slipped her hand into his for the briefest of moments as she looked up into his eyes. He nodded, understanding her predicament.  
"You are very welcome." Fraser winked at her.  
"Hello, I brought the last of your paperwork." Hana Zaman walked up to the door, a sheaf of papers in her hands.  
"Hana, good to see you." Meg walked between Fraser and Ben to the younger woman. She saw the pained expression on her face but Hana tried to smile anyway. They had talked for a long time when Meg was able, about the things that had happened, both in Iraq and Omar's death. It would take time, but they both knew time would mend the wounds.  
"Ms. Meg, they finally got your paperwork finished, if you'll sign, you are free to go." Hana waved to Fraser and Ben. The Mountie nodded, spinning his hat between his hands. Ben waved back. Fraser noticed that Ben's eyes lit up when he saw Hana. She was barely seven years older and quite pretty, with long, raven hair, dark eyes, a soft, tinkling voice, and a glittering smile. Fraser knew what a pair of pretty, dark eyes could do to a boy, he'd been susceptible to them himself. Hopefully, Ben would make better choices than he had in that area.  
"Ah, thank you, Hana, I'll be relieved to get back home." Meg signed the appropriate places and handed the papers back to her.  
"Remember to take it easy, you aren't one hundred percent just yet." Hana warned, her eyes narrowing at the lady Mountie.  
"I'll do my best." Meg wouldn't promise, but she would try.  
"Alright, I'll let you go." Hana waved as she turned to go, wisps of her long hair bouncing in her wake.  
"Let's get going." Meg said in her Inspector voice. She started to pick up the suitcase lying on the foot of her bed but Fraser gently shooed her away, taking it away from her. With a sigh, Meg threw her hands up, secretly loving his doting on her.  
Welcome Home …  
Meg ate a slice of cake and a helping of ice cream to appease Constable Hansen before leaving the post. He was as excitable as Turnbull ever thought about being. The young man reminded her very much of Turnbull.  
After stopping in at the post for a few hours, Ben walked Meg to her apartment, carrying her suitcase. He was quiet as he, Meg and Dief strolled down the street. Meg could tell there was something on his mind.  
Up the stairs, Meg unlocked the door and shut down the security system. The place had been tidied up and she could smell lemon Pledge coming from her wood work.  
"Dad and I thought it would be nice for you to come home to a clean house. I cleaned the kitchen while Dad did most everything else." Ben shrugged as Meg surveyed her apartment.  
"He does tend to go overboard, doesn't he." Meg shook her head.  
"I think he's trying to impress you or something." Ben took a seat at the kitchen table, Dief standing in the kitchen, begging. Meg waved his observation away. She knew Fraser had something on his mind and was working up the nerve to tell her.   
"Would you like one, Ben?" Meg asked as she grabbed a bottled water from the refrigerator.  
"Yes, thank you." The boy answered, his eyes puzzled.  
"Is there something on your mind?" Meg sat down at the table, setting a bottled of water toward him. Ben nodded, still undecided.  
"You can tell me." Meg offered, hoping to be trusted. She wanted to get to know Ben, regardless of her relationship with Fraser.  
"I know you and Dad liked each other when you worked together at the consulate, I don't understand why neither of you did anything about it. I mean, I know what the RCMP says about that kind of thing, but well, you two headed in opposite directions. You didn't see each other again until a few months ago." Ben's blue eyes searched Meg's face for an answer.  
"Ben, I can only speak for myself, I treated Fraser badly because I was out to prove I was tough, that I could do the job better than my male counterparts. Fraser has a tendency to draw attention just by doing what is right, regardless of the consequences to himself. I was jealous, I wanted to be as respected as he was and have his attention too. My head and my heart were at odds with each other. When I saw the opportunity to transfer to the CSIS, I thought it was finally my time to shine. I wanted Fraser to notice me like everyone notices him. I made a mistake, I misread his silence as indifference. I believe both of us were afraid." She wondered how much of that the boy had understood.  
"Are you still afraid?" Ben asked, taking Meg by surprise.  
"Yes, but I'm not going to run away from it this time." Meg's gaze met Ben's.   
He got the feeling that she was telling the truth. "I hope you and Dad can work things out, since he's been here, he's been happier than I've seen him." Ben grinned, feeling relieved to get his question off his chest.   
Meg smiled, happy to hear she made Fraser happy.  
***  
After his shift at the post, Fraser walked to Meg's apartment, whistling a tune. He was glad to have Meg back home. He longed to talk to her without having to censor his thoughts.  
Mounting the steps, Fraser smelled a delicious scent of something in the oven. The smell of baking bread mixed with baking beans made his mouth water as he tapped on the door at the head of the stairs. Ben opened the door, a broad grin on his face.  
"Hi, Dad, come in, we've been cooking dinner." The boy stepped aside to let his dad inside.  
"I can smell it, do I detect baked beans with minced onions, mustard, barbecue sauce, honey I believe, with just a dash of brown sugar?" Fraser laid his Stetson on the coffee table and followed his nose to the kitchen.  
"You're spot on, have a seat." Meg ushered him to the kitchen table. A plate of grilled hot dogs and well done hamburgers sat waiting for him. There was potato salad and a fruit salad as well. Ben had set the table for the three of them already, the yellow rose in a vase in the center of the table.  
"The doctor specifically told you to take it easy, Meg." Fraser frowned at her as she poured three glasses of lemonade.  
"I did take it easy, Ben and I had an impromptu cooking lesson this afternoon." Meg waved his frown away, "He cooked while I supervised." Ben nodded enthusiastically in the background. Fraser was glad to see them getting along so well.  
"As soon as I take the beans out of the oven we can eat." Ben pulled on a pair of oven mitts and opened the stove. Fraser and Meg watched as he cautiously slid the aluminum baking pan out of the two hundred degree oven then set it on the stove top. When he lifted the lid steam billowed out, as did the mouthwatering scent.  
"I should wash for dinner." Fraser stood up and walked back through the apartment toward the bathroom.  
"Let me get you a dish." Meg offered, opening the cabinet above the stove. She chose a large, glass bowl from above her head. Ben heard the sound of the glass clattering as Meg's side weakened. He reached up and took the bowl by the bottom. Meg's face was pale as they sat it down together.  
"You should sit down, Inspector." Ben suggested, his blue eyes full of concern. She simply nodded, hoping Fraser hadn't seen what just happened. Slowly, Meg took a deep breath and then a seat at the table. She knew that she wasn't up to the task of the post. The next time would be the last time she got in trouble.  
Fraser sat down with two of his favorite people, one on each side, Diefenbaker begging at the side of the table. Ben put down an extra hamburger on a paper plate for him. For a moment, Fraser absorbed the scene. Ben dug into the potato salad while Meg put two slices of tomato on her burger. He could see this happening every night for the rest of his life. Ben's voice was changing, cracking as he asked Meg to pass the mustard. He seemed a bit embarrassed about it. Fraser felt extremely blessed.  
"Fraser, are you going to eat, or sit there?" Meg asked him finally. He just smiled at her and began dishing out his dinner.  
***


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23: Chapter 23 Stairwell  
Ben laid on the arm of the couch asleep. They'd settled down to watch an old movie after dinner. Ten minutes before the end, and the boy was out for the count.  
"I should get him up, we need to go back to the cabin." Fraser sighed, hating leaving Meg alone her first night out of the hospital.  
"In a minute, okay." Meg stood up, taking Benton by the hand. He looked up at her puzzled. Meg put a silencing finger to her lips. She lead him onto the stairs where they sat down.  
"I wanted to talk to you about us." Meg began after taking a deep breath.  
"Yes, I've been wondering when we would talk." Fraser answered, looking at the step between his knees.  
"I want there to be an us, Benton, but it's not possible if we're in separate countries." Meg wiped her hands on her pants. She felt so nervous her palms were sweating.  
"I agree, Meg," Fraser took her hand in both of his, looking into her dark eyes. He dreaded telling her that he didn't want her to go back to the post.  
"I'm moving back to Chicago," Meg blurted out quickly, butterflies flapping like dragons in her stomach. When Benton looked up at her there was a relieved, happy expression on his face.  
"Back to Chicago, what about the post, what about your position?" Fraser asked, wondering how long she'd been thinking about this.  
"My position and the post don't make me smile, they don't eat dinner with me, they don't kiss me." She squeezed his fingers and smiled coyly. "Over the years I've made some contacts in the civilian sector, I called a therapist friend in Chicago and she has a position for me working with veterans, helping them with their PTSD. I'll be taking classes for a while when I first get started but I think I can do this, and I'll be closer to you and Ben." That made both of them smile.  
"That's wonderful, Meg." Fraser leaned in and gave her a quick kiss.  
"What was it you wanted to talk about, Benton?" The lady Mountie asked as she laced her fingers with his. She noted the way his eyes took on that wide eyed innocent expression she'd seen so many times when he had to explain himself.  
"I was going to ask you not to go back to the post." His voice was grave as he smoothed his brow with his thumbnail. Fraser prayed he wasn't opening a can of worms with her about taking care of herself.  
"Oh," Meg looked at him confused. "Why would you do that?" She reminded herself to stop and listen to what he had to say before she let her mouth ruin things.  
"I know it's unfair of me to ask you to move away from your home here in Spencer Falls, but I want us to be closer together as well. I almost lost you, Meg, I can't stand the thoughts of you being in danger, it's not that you're incapable or incompetent, I love you too much to lose you like that." Fraser waited for her reaction, searching Meg's face for the first sign of her anger or hurt.   
Meg swallowed, frowning as she let it sink in for a bit. She could see things from his perspective, she'd spent time worrying and wondering if he were okay, if he were hurt or needed someone's help. This was the first selfish thing he'd ever asked of her.  
"I know you want to protect me, Fraser, that's what you do, that's what you're good at. I've been protecting myself for so long, I'm tired. I'll admit, worrying about you won't be easy for me, but I can do this if you promise me you'll always come back to me." Meg leaned against Benton's shoulder. He felt her hair tickling his cheek as he leaned against her, their fingers laced.  
"I promise, Meg Thatcher, I will never leave you without coming back for you." Benton had never intended not to come back to her when he'd left all those years ago.  
"Good, because I will hold you to that." Meg sat up and pressed a kiss against his cheek.  
"Ben will be pleased you're moving to Chicago." Fraser put his arm around Meg's shoulders, pulling her closer to him. His body heat felt good in the drafty stairwell.  
"It will take some time for me to get all the paperwork and red tape dealt with, so I'll be in Spencer Falls for a few months yet." Meg sighed, wishing she could pick up and fly south like a migratory bird on one last flight.  
"I'll be waiting for you." Fraser leaned back. He'd been waiting a very long time for her, a few months wouldn't feel like anything.  
"I'll hurry, I don't want to waste a day." Meg smiled. Everything was going to be alright.  
The End  
Author's Note: Hope the readers enjoyed this story. Read and review with kindness as I try to do the same. TYK


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